


Gap Year

by sartiebodyshots



Series: Worlds Apart [1]
Category: Falling Skies
Genre: M/M, Past Child Abuse, allusions to potential sexual abuse, pre-series AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 51
Words: 75,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a hopeless, fresh out of high school Tom Mason is abducted by aliens with a few questions for him, he begs to be allowed to stay.  One of the aliens takes mercy on him and takes him in, starting off a chain of events neither of them could have anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Abduction/An Introduction

            Tom has just found out that he won’t be able to pay for college when it happens.  He’s walking home from work, dragging his feet, when there’s a flash of light.  There are arms pulling him along and… upwards?  Along and upwards. 

            “Hey!” Tom tries to yell, but for some reason he can’t speak. 

            “Please remain calm,” a voice tells him. 

            There’s never much point in fighting, so Tom lets them drag him to wherever they’re going.  The people taking him away are wearing some kind of helmets so Tom can’t even get a good look at his attackers.

            A minute later, he’s in what looks like some kind of holding area, like he’s been taken by the police.  Except the police stations in his section of Boston are dingy and ill lit, whereas this room is bright.  There’s another problem; the writing on the walls isn’t in English or in any language that Tom even kind of recognizes.

            “What’s happening?” Tom manages to say, pulling himself free from the two people who have taken him.

            “Do not be alarmed,” one of them says.  “We wish to ask you a couple questions and then we will release you back to your people.”

            “My people?” Tom says slowly.  “Does that mean you’re not my people?  Let me see your faces.”

            “I cannot permit that,” the voice says.

            “Perhaps it will not do harm,” the other one says.  “We can show him after we have asked our questions.”

            The first one (Helmet 1, Tom has dubbed him) shakes his head.  “It is not permitted.”

            Helmet 2 tilts his head.   “For primitive species, but he is not primitive.”

            “We cannot know that until after we question him!” Helmet 1 hisses. 

            “Primitive species?  Like, you guys aren’t human?”  Tom asks, hoping he isn’t going crazy.  “Aliens?”

            They start muttering at each other in a language that Tom doesn’t understand and Tom just stands there, rocking back and forth.  His whole life is over before it’s even begun, and, honestly, the thought of going home and telling his dad that he won’t be going to college almost makes him wish his life would be literally over, not just figuratively.  Maybe this is an opportunity. 

            “Look, I’ll answer all your questions, okay?” Tom interrupts their arguing.  He figures he doesn’t actually know anything that would hurt Earth if they’re hostile as opposed to curious.

            “It is pointless now,” Helmet 1 says.  “The experiment has been compromised.”

            “Experiment?” Tom asks.

            “To ascertain whether or not your species has knowledge of alien life,” Helmet 2 explains.

            “Now you have been contaminated, and we cannot take your information at face value,” Helmet 1 says.  “So we will erase your memory and return you to your home.”

            “Please don’t,” Tom pleads, looking over at Helmet 2.  He seems slightly more friendly.  “Don’t make me go back home.”

            “Why do you not wish to return home?” Helmet 2 asks him.

            “It does not matter,” Helmet 1 says.  “He must or we could become compromised.”

            “You won’t be!  Humans don’t know about aliens and my dad…” Tom pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.  “He won’t miss me at all.  Please let me stay.  I’ll clean; I know a lot of cool stories!  Human history is cool.”

            “Why will your father not miss you?” Helmet 2 asks.

            “He doesn’t like me very much.  He’s drunk most of the time, too,” Tom explains.

            “You do not know what you’re signing up for,” Helmet 2 says.  “Our lives are dangerous and you would be placed in danger as well.”

            “It’s better than my prospects at home, I promise,” Tom explains.  Self-consciously, he adjusts the turtleneck he’s wearing to make sure it’s covering the bruising around his throat.  “Please…”

            Without another word, both aliens leave and leave Tom by himself.  He doesn’t move or touch anything, not wanting to risk disturbing something important and getting kicked out. 

            In a few minutes, Helmet 2 returns and Tom takes a few steps forward.  “So?  Can I stay?”  It’s the longest shot Tom can think of, running off to live with aliens who kidnapped him, but at the moment, it feels like the best choice.

            “I have been permitted to keep you as a pet,” Helmet 2 says.

            Tom takes a step back, frowning.  “Excuse me?  You can’t keep humans as pets.”

            “Perhaps our translation is faulty.  Allow me to explain.  I will be responsible for your wellbeing and, should you behave poorly, I would receive punishment as well,” Helmet 2 explains.  “I will not treat you cruelly, I promise.”

            Tom nods.  “And what would you expect from me?”

            “You must behave acceptably.  You would assist in keeping my quarters tidy.  I have an interest in learning of other cultures, so I would wish for you to tell me of your people,” Helmet 2 explains.  “I would also teach you how to defend yourself, but I would not require you to fight in our military or go into battle with me.”

            “Good, I don’t think I’d ever make much of a fighter,” Tom says wistfully.

            “Are these acceptable terms?” Helmet 2 asks.

            Tom thinks about it for a minute and then nods.  “It sounds good.  So, do you have a name?  Do your people have a name?”

            “I am Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol of the Volm,” he says, so fast that it almost all sounds like a single word.

            “Do you, uh, have a nickname?” Tom asks.

            “A nickname?”

            “My parents named me Thomas, but everyone calls me Tom.  A shortened version of your name.”

            “We do not shorten our names, Thomas.”

            “Tom, please.” He barely suppresses a shudder.  “Don’t call me Thomas.”

            “If you insist.  But I do not have a nickname.”

            “Could I give you one?  Because I don’t think I’m going to be able to pronounce your name.  I’m sorry,” Tom says.

            “You must not use a nickname in front of the other Volm,” he says.

            Tom nods.  “Agreed.  You said that you fight?  Like, you’re a warrior?”

            “Yes.  We have been fighting the Espheni for centuries.”

            “Cochise.  He was a warrior on my planet, and his name kind of sounds like yours,” Tom says.  “Is that an okay nickname?”

            “Cochise,” he murmurs.  “I approve.”

            Tom smiles.  “Cool.  Cochise it is then.  Not around the other Volm, but when it’s just us.”

            “I will show you to our quarters, if it acceptable for you,” Cochise says.

            “Sounds good,” Tom says. 

            Tom follows Cochise out of the room where they held him.  There’s nobody else around, just a lot of greyish looking walls. 

            “We have studied your people, so I am aware that you will require nutrition three times a day, as well as eight hours of sleep,” Cochise says.

            “How long have you guys been watching us?” Tom asks.  “And why?”

            “We are looking for allies in our fight against the Espheni,” Cochise says.

            “The Espheni?”

            “Evil aliens who destroy whole planets, whole civilizations.  They are a scourge on this galaxy that we wish to eliminate.”

            “Humans can fly to our moon, but that’s about it,” Tom says.  “I don’t know how we’d fair in an alien war.” 

            “We will attempt to ensure that you do not ever find out,” Cochise says cryptically. 

            Tom kind of doesn’t want to know what that means.

            “These are our quarters,” Cochise says, stopping in front of a door that looks like every other door that they’ve passed.

            The room is bigger than Tom would have expected, easily bigger than the doubles at the colleges he had applied to.  The floor is made out of some kind of carpet that looks soft, even if it is a bland grey.  The smooth, undecorated walls are also grey.  He’s getting a sense that these aliens don’t do much in the way of interior design.

            “It’s nice,” Tom says, eyeing that there’s only one bed.  “Can I get some blankets for the floor, though?”

            “You wish to sleep on the floor?” Cochise asks.

            “Well, there’s only one bed, and I figured that it’s yours.  I’ve slept on the floor before, but some blankets would be nice,” Tom says, shrugging.

            “I only require a few hours of sleep a week,” Cochise says.  “You may have the bed.”

            “Are you sure?” Tom says.  He doesn’t want Cochise to resent him or anything. 

            “I am certain,” Cochise says and there’s something going on the Tom doesn’t know about.  He gets the feeling that’s going to be common. 

            “Okay, cool,” Tom says. 

            Cochise pulls at his helmet and Tom holds his breath.  It just hit him that he hasn’t seen Cochise’s actual face yet.  He watches eagerly as Cochise’s real face emerges.

            His skin looks kind of leathery and Tom has to hold back from touching to see if he’s right.  Cochise’s face is well lined, plenty of bumps and ridges.  His is the first alien face that Tom has seen, and, yeah, it’s nothing like he’s seen before, but it’s not as strange as he had expected. 

            It’s the eyes, Tom realizes.  Cochise may be an alien but there’s something familiar in his eyes that makes him seem not strange, no matter how different the rest of his appearance may be. 

            “This is your last chance to return to your planet.  After this, I cannot promise that we will return to this portion of the galaxy for quite some time,” Cochise says. 

            “I’m staying, Cochise,” Tom says.   “There’s nothing for me back on Earth.”

            Cochise inclines his head.  “Then this is your new home.”

            Tom likes the sound of that.  Leaving home is a big, terrifying thing, but it was going to happen anyway. 

            “It’s nice,” Tom says.  “Thank you for taking me in.”

            “I sensed an urgency in you that I did not wish to ignore,” Cochise says.  He leans forward and squints.  “What is on your neck?”

            “Um-“ Tom’s brain short circuits as he tries to think up a good excuse.  Normally, they’re all on the tip of his tongue, but not this time.

            Cochise leans forward and carefully pushes down his turtleneck.  Tom presses his lips together at the gentleness with which Cochise examines his neck.  It’s almost more painful than the bruising itself.

            “This is not your species’ natural coloration,” Cochise murmurs, warm breath tickling at his neck.

            “No,” Tom breathes. 

            “What caused this?”

            Tom gets ahold of himself, finally, and firmly pushes Cochise’s hand away.  “My father held me against the wall.” 

            “This is how human parents behave?” Cochise asks, clearly aghast.

            “Not most of them, but my dad, yeah,” Tom says.  “Ever since I was little.”

            “Why?” Cochise asks.

            Tom just shrugs.  “Usually because he gets drunk or because I make him mad.” 

            “That is unacceptable behavior,” Cochise says.

            “That’s life,” Tom says. 

            “Are you further injured?” Cochise asks.

            Tom wants to lie and say no, but Cochise has let him stay in his home.  Lying doesn’t seem right.  He carefully pulls up his turtleneck and shows Cochise the bruising and cuts on his torso.  It’s not pretty, Tom knows. 

            “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Tom says. 

            “Do you require medical assistance?  Our doctors have never treated a human, but they are very skilled,” Cochise says.

            Tom pulls his shirt down.  “I don’t usually get medical attention unless something’s broken.  Don’t deserve it.”  Money’s always tight and hospitals are always expensive.

            “Come with me, Tom Mason,” Cochise says, leading him out of their room. 

            There are more Volm in the hallways now and Tom looks at them curiously.  Their faces are all impassive; Tom can’t tell if they’re remotely surprised to see a human on their ship.  Most of their faces are uncovered. 

            Cochise opens a door and leads Tom into what is very clearly an infirmary.  Tom looks at Cochise hesitantly.  “Are you sure?”

            “I wish for you to be well,” Cochise says.  “It is alright.”

            Walking over the threshold to the alien infirmary feels scarier than asking to stay on the alien spaceship, but Tom does it with Cochise following right behind.


	2. An Examination/A Bathroom

            Tom listens but doesn’t understand as Cochise and the other Volm talk in the infirmary.  He’s sitting on some exam table that Cochise had to help him get up onto.  With his shirt off, he’s shivering in the cold.

            Honestly, this is closer to what Tom had imagined being abducted by aliens would be like. 

            Doctor Volm looks over his injuries, not being overly careful about it.  Tom does his best not to flinch and hiss too badly, staring straight ahead into the alien infirmary, but he can’t help but hiss loudly when he presses hard on a particularly tender bruise. 

            Cochise says something firmly to Doctor Volm and Tom notices that Doctor Volm becomes much less abrasive. 

            “He is going to apply a salve that should expedite the healing process,” Cochise tells him, coming around to Tom’s side of the table.  “And then he will wrap your injuries, if this an acceptable course of action.”

            Tom nods.  “Okay.”

            Doctor Volm begins spreading something on his torso and instantly it begins to feel better.  It’s miraculous. 

            “Where has this been all my life?” Tom murmurs, eyes half shut in contentment. 

            “On Volm ships,” Cochise says.

            Tom opens his eyes in surprise before realizing that Cochise isn’t mocking him; he’s trying to supply answers.

            “It was a rhetorical question,” Tom explains. 

            “What is a rhetorical question?”

            “It means I was using it to make a point, not because I actually wanted an answer,” Tom says.  “Like, I was expressing how much this would have come in handy before now.”

            “I understand,” Cochise says, and Tom isn’t sure he does.

            Doctor Volm keeps working away as Tom sits awkwardly on the table and soon his injuries are wrapped up tight. 

            “Thank you,” Tom tells Doctor Volm once he’s done.  He realizes he has no idea if he understands him at all, so he turns around to Cochise.  “Will you tell him I say ‘thank you,’ please?”

            “As you wish,” Cochise says, turning to Doctor Volm and speaking.   Doctor Volm replies back.  “He says that it is his duty to do as his superior officer commands.”

            “You’re an officer?” Tom asks as he puts his shirt back on.

            “Yes,” Cochise says.  “I have recently been promoted.  One day, I will lead campaigns on many planets in order to liberate them from the Espheni.”

            “But not yet?” Tom asks.  He doesn’t really like the idea; it sounds dangerous.

            “No, for now I am simply in charge of seeking out allies,” Cochise says.  “We must return to our quarters.”

            “Alright,” Tom says, getting up and following Cochise.  “So, like, is this your ship, then?”

            “It is a Volm ship; it belongs to all the Volm,” Cochise says.

            So, he ended up with communist aliens.  Alrighty. 

            “But you’re in charge of it?” Tom asks.

            “I am not in charge of the ship itself, but of the teams that go to make contact with alien cultures,” Cochise explains. 

            “Have you found a lot of allies?” Tom asks.

            “Your planet was the first I was in charge of investigating,” Cochise says. 

            “Oh,” Tom says, looking up and over at him.  “I’m sorry.”

            “You are not responsible for the technological development of your species,” Cochise says.  And then he turns and tilts his head at him.  “Are you?”

            The question takes Tom by surprise, as does the intensity of Cochise’s gaze.  “N-no.  I just graduated high school.  I wasn’t even going to study anything scientific when I thought I was going to college.”

            “You halted your education to do this?” Cochise asks.

            Tom shakes his head glumly.  “I had just found out that I couldn’t afford to go to college.  Not enough scholarship money.”

            “Your species requires payment for an education?” Cochise asks. 

            They’ve reached the door to their apartment and Cochise lets him enter first.  Tom isn’t sure where to sit- there’s only one chair and the bed- so he settles on the bed since Cochise had already said that he would be sleeping there anyway.  Cochise takes the chair, turning it from the desk to face the bed.

            “We’re not just one species,” Tom says.  “Well, we are, but we’re a bunch of different societies.  So my society- I’m from the United States of America- provides free, compulsory general education for thirteen years.  If you want to specialize in a field, you go to college, which costs money.  I got into college but I couldn’t pay for it.”

            “The Volm are one and we provide education and military training for all,” Cochise explains.

            “Military training?” Tom asks.  “For everyone?”

            “Almost all Volm are in the military.  Those that are not care for our offspring,” Cochise says. 

            “Oh…” Tom says, struggling with the idea of a military culture.  “You don’t get any choice?”

            “It is a duty that all Volm take on willingly.  Our species- and many other species- are in danger,” Cochise says.

            Tom presses his lips together.  He can’t imagine that every single Volm wants to enter military service, but he doesn’t want to criticize so blatantly without more information.  Or until he’s sure that Cochise won’t drop him off on the nearest planet if he gets mouthy. 

            “Do you require nutrients or rest?” Cochise asks. 

            “I’m kind of hungry,” Tom says. 

            “I will bring you food,” Cochise says, getting up and leaving before Tom can say another word. 

            Tom has the feeling he’s been locked in.  He gets it; he’s probably technically some kind of security risk. 

            He takes the alone time to explore the room a little more thoroughly.  Slipping off his shoes, Tom wiggles his toes in the carpet.  It is soft, just like he had thought. 

            Looking around the room, Tom notices another door.  It almost blends completely into the gray wall and there’s no visible door handle or catch to open it.  Tom runs his fingers along the door and finally finds the catch two feet higher than Tom is used to, and it slides open.  The Volm really need to look into differentiation by color. 

            The lights come on by themselves, much to Tom’s relief.  He can’t imagine finding the light switch would have been easy. 

            Tom steps into the room and the door slides shut behind him.  The noise makes Tom jump, but he reminds himself he wanted to take a look in this room anyway.

            One corner of the room has what looks like a showerhead hanging from it.  There are no shower curtains, but there’s definitely a drain on the floor. 

            Tom doesn’t see anything that looks like a toilet, which is too bad because he badly needs one.  There is an indent in the wall that looks kind of like hands and Tom crosses over and traces a finger just outside the indent.  The surface is smooth but warm to the touch. 

            Cautiously, he presses his hand into one of the indents and suddenly water comes out of the showerhead.  Tom makes a yikes noise and removes his hand from the indent, hoping it would turn the water off.  The water keeps coming, so Tom tries pressing the other indent.

            Tom jumps backwards as water shoots out of the wall and covers his hands.  Crap.  He waves his hands to dry them off as water keeps coming out of the wall. 

            Okay, maybe he should have gotten kicked out for arguing about compulsory military service as opposed to messing with the plumbing. 

            He tries to find the catch on the bathroom door again, but he can’t find it, even after minutes of frantic searching.  With a pit growing in his stomach, Tom sinks to the floor and tries to collect himself as the water keeps flowing.  He messed up big time. 

            That he now really, really has to pee doesn’t help anything.


	3. A Color/A Meal

            Tom squirms as he waits for Cochise to come back.  His bladder is full, but there’s no toilet in this godforsaken bathroom. 

            Soon enough, he hears a door open and a familiar voice saying, “Tom?”

            “I’m in here,” Tom yells, voice wavering as he knocks on the door.

            The door slides open and Cochise looks around.  Tom watches as Cochise somehow turns off all of the water with the indentations on the wall. 

            Cochise turns to look at him and Tom shrinks back into the wall on instinct. 

            “I’m sorry,” Tom says, voice shaking a little.  “I was just exploring.  I didn’t know how to turn it off.”

            Cochise kneels down and reaches a hand out to Tom.  “Do you require assistance standing up?”

            “I’m alright,” Tom says, getting up.  “I’m sorry if I messed anything up.”

            “You simply turned the water on, Tom.  It is not a problem,” Cochise says.  “Are you afraid of something?  Has someone been in here?”

            “It’s just been me,” Tom says. 

            “You are shaking,” Cochise says.

            “I just,” Tom swallows hard.  “I figured you’d be mad.  I figured you’d…”  _Hurt me_ , he wants to say, but doesn’t.  It’s what Tom is used to, after all.

            “You do not need to be afraid of me.  I would not harm you, even if you angered me,” Cochise says and maybe Tom is reading something that isn’t there, but Cochise looks hurt that Tom would even suspect that.  “Come with me, I have brought you food.”

            “Uhm, before that,” Tom says, face blushing.  “Is there somewhere I can relieve myself?”

            “Relieve yourself of what?” Cochise asks.

            “Waste.”

            “The toilet is here,” Cochise says, gesturing towards the shower drain.

            “There?” Tom asks, looking up at Cochise in confusion.

            “Do humans not eliminate waste standing up?”

            “Some humans can, some of the time.”  Tom’s face is flushing.  “But we also need to sit down, too.”

            “We do not have facilities for someone to sit down and eliminate waste,” Cochise says.

            “Do you, uh, have facilities for someone to eliminate solid waste?” Tom asks.  He really hopes it’s not some kind of vacuum that’ll just suck the poop out or something.

            “We do not produce solid waste,” Cochise says. 

            “Humans do,” Tom says.  “I don’t need to poop right now, but it’s gonna happen.  Probably tomorrow.”

            “How do you cope with it?” Cochise asks.

            Tom gapes for a few seconds.  There are some things he never thought he’d ever have to actually explain.  “Usually, we just sit and poop and it comes out.” 

            “We gathered some of your media before making contact with your people.  Perhaps you could find an example of the apparatus you use to ‘poop’ in our collection,” Cochise says.

            “Okay, I’ll pee and then I’ll find you a picture of a toilet,” Tom says.

            Cochise remains in the doorway, even as Tom crosses over to the shower. 

            Tom looks back at Cochise.  “Could I have some privacy?”

            Cochise inclines his head and leaves the room, door sliding shut behind him.

            Awkwardly, Tom undos his pants and tries to aim at the general direction of the drain, hoping that he’s using Cochise’s toilet right.  Sometimes he’s an anxious pee-er, so it takes him a minute before he can actually pee.  It’s kind of embarrassing.

Once he manages to pee, Tom feels a little better.  That is, until he’s confronted with using the wall indent thingy again.  He carefully presses the one that got the water flowing last time, using the water to wash his hands. 

Tom can’t remember how Cochise turned the water off, so he just goes to the door and knocks. 

“You’ve got to show me how to open the door,” Tom says as it slides open.  He looks over at the running water.  “And how to turn off the water.”

“You simply push the button to open the door,” Cochise says.

“I can’t see a button, Cochise,” Tom says, biting his lip.  “I only got in here on accident.”

Cochise furrows his brows.  “I know it somewhat blends in with all the other colors, but-“

“Wait,” Tom interrupts.  “Colors?  Plural?”

“I have a very colorful décor, Tom,” Cochise says.  “I know it is not fashionable, but I enjoy it.”

“It doesn’t look like it to me,” Tom says.  “Everything in here in grey.  Pretty much everything is grey.”

“Are your eyes dysfunctional?” Cochise asks. 

“No!” Tom says, feeling a little defensive of his eyes. 

“Perhaps humans do not see as many colors as the Volm do,” Cochise says.  He sighs.  “It is unfortunate.  The mural on the wall is beautiful.”

Tom raises an eyebrow as he watches Cochise turn off the water.  They both go into the main room together.

“You have a mural in here?”  Tom looks around.

“You cannot see it at all?” Cochise asks.  He points towards a wall.  “It is here.”

Tom looks at it, feeling a little deflated.  “It’s just grey, Cochise.”

“Am I grey as well?” Cochise asks.

“A very nice shade of grey,” Tom consoles.  He pulls Cochise a little further into the light.  “In the light, there’s are the barest hints of blue, too.”

“Is it aesthetically pleasing?” Cochise says.

“Yeah,” Tom says, flushing a little.  “You’re aesthetically pleasing.”

Cochise squints at him and Tom looks away and notices the food on the desk. 

“Is this for me?” Tom asks, crossing to the desk. 

“I hope it is acceptable,” Cochise says.  “If it is not, please inform me so I can bring you some other food.” 

“Thanks, Cochise,” Tom says, taking his plate and returning to his bed. 

Cochise takes his seat and Tom feels uniquely scrutinized as Cochise watches him start to nibble on the various foods on his plate.  There’s a leafy food that’s surprisingly tough to chew.  What looks like plain rice actually has the consistency of creamy peanut butter somehow. 

It’s probably the most confusing meal that Tom has ever eaten, but it’s good and Tom eats everything on his plate. 

“You guys are good at food,” Tom says approvingly.  He burps a little.  “That was so good.”

Cochise breaks out in a wide smile.  “I am glad you enjoy our cuisine.  It would be most unpleasant if you did not.” 

“Yeah, it would,” Tom agrees before stifling a yawn.  He’s suddenly sleepy.  “I think the food is making me sleepy, though.”

“You have had an overwhelming day,” Cochise says, getting up to take his plate.  “If you must rest, now is an acceptable time.”

“Wait!” Tom says, even as he slides to lay down.  “I have to show you what a toilet is.”

“I will do the research as you sleep,” Cochise says softly.  He sets the plate down and returns to kneel next to Tom.  “Rest now.”

“Goodnight, Cochise,” Tom murmurs, eyes sliding shut.  “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Tom,” Cochise says, stumbling over the words as if they’re extra unfamiliar.  He pulls a blanket up and tucks him in gently.

The lights dim and Tom is helpless to resist the deep sleep calling to him.


	4. A Toilet/A Warning, Rejected

            Tom’s having the weirdest dream.  He’s dreaming he’s been taken by aliens.  Perfectly nice, kind of cute aliens.  Or at least one of them is nice, promises him safety.  Well, not safety, but that he’ll treat him nicely.  It’s kind of jumbled, but Tom knows it’s exciting because he’s free from his dad.  It’s the most important thing he’s ever wanted, in a more extreme form than he ever could have imagined.

            He burrows a little deeper under his blanket, pulling it up over his face against the harsh light.  The dream is too good to wake up yet. 

            When Tom finally opens his eyes, he’s greeted to the sight of an alien backside hunched over a desk.  Tom smiles hazily to himself.  It wasn’t a dream; he’s escaped.

            “Cochise?” Tom murmurs, still half asleep. 

            “Tom!” Cochise says, getting up and coming over to him.  “I believe I have made an adequate human toilet for you.”

            Tom blinks.  “Good morning to you, too.  You made me a toilet?” 

            “I wish for you to be able to eliminate your solid waste,” Cochise says. 

            “That’s sweet, Cochise,” Tom says, stretching and yawning as he starts to wake up.  “No one’s ever made me a toilet before.”

            “I do not know if I have made it properly, and I have yet to determine how to hook it up to the ship’s waste removal system,” Cochise says. 

            “I can check it out.  I don’t know much about Volm plumbing, but I can at least tell you if you got the toilet part right,” Tom says.

            “I would appreciate your expertise,” Cochise says with such sincerity that Tom has to laugh a little.

            Tom slips out of bed, pulling the blanket with him so he can stay wrapped up warm.

            “Is the temperature in the room too cold?  I attempted to approximate your climate, but I was uncertain as to your temperature preference,” Cochise asks.  “The Volm are adaptable to many temperatures, so do not worry about making me uncomfortable.”

            “Nah, it’s a good temperature,” Tom says.  “It’s just nice to be wrapped up like this.”   

            “Why?”

            Safety.  Comfort.  But Tom just shrugs.  “I don’t know how to describe it.  But you should try it sometime.”

            “Perhaps the next time I sleep,” Cochise says.

            “Hey…” Tom says as they approach the door to the bathroom.  There is now a raised bump where Tom had found the catch yesterday.  “Did you do this?”  He presses the button easily.

            “I believed it would ease your movement to the bathroom.  There is one on the other side as well,” Cochise says.  “I have also added bumps to the light controls for the apartment.  I did not add bumps to the exterior door, as I cannot allow you into the main portion of the ship unaccompanied yet.”

            “Thank you, Cochise,” Tom says, touched.  He hadn’t even thought about Cochise changing the apartment so that he could get around easier.  “And don’t worry, I get why you can’t let me just roam the ship, as much as I’d like to explore.”

            “I will give you a tour soon, I promise,” Cochise says. 

            They walk into the bathroom and Tom immediately notices the toilet.  It’s sitting right in the middle of the room, and it’s then that Tom realizes that he’s never seen a toilet not pressed up against the wall before. 

            The toilet is a light red, which means it stands out in contrast to the grey of everything else in Cochise’s bathroom.  Tom opens the lid of the toilet, surprised to find that the seat is furry and padded.  He looks up at Cochise in surprise.

            “I found it most nonsensical that the cushioning and the fur was always on the exterior of the toilet.  This will allow your posterior to be warm as you eliminate waste,” Cochise says, visibly pleased with himself.

            “That’s a good thought,” Tom says, smiling softly.  “But it’s not hygienic.  It’ll get dirty with poop.”

            “Oh…” Cochise says, looking down.  “I apologize.”

            “No, no,” Tom reassures him, touching Cochise’s arm.  “It was a really good thought.  Pooping just gets messy sometimes.”

            “I will replace the toilet seat with a plain seat,” Cochise says.  “Are there any other problems I should be aware of?”

            Tom takes the lid off the top and he looks up at Cochise again.  “It’s empty.”

            “Is that incorrect?”

            “Usually there’s plumbing stuff in there,” Tom says, biting his lip.  “I don’t remember what, but when you push the handle, it takes the poop away and refills the toilet with clean water.”

            “I can replicate this effect,” Cochise says confidently.

            “You’re a plumber, on top of everything else?” Tom says, impressed.

            “I am trained in rudimentary engineering,” Cochise says.  “I could build a low powered spaceship with the proper tools, if necessary.”

            “But can you get a toilet to work, that’s the true question,” Tom says, nudging him.  “It’s a trope back on Earth; people try to fix their toilets, but they always make a big mess instead and have to call an actual plumber.”

            “I do not wish to call another Volm in here,” Cochise says.

            “Stubborn?” Tom asks, smiling without noticing.

            Cochise sighs, and, again Tom thinks he’s missing something.  “It may not be entirely safe.”

            “Woah, what?” Tom asks, startled.

            “Some members of the Volm do not respect members of other species that are not capable of aiding us in our war against the Espheni,” Cochise explains.  “They believe that they are lesser.”

            “And that puts me in danger?” Tom asks.

            “It could, but I will not allow you to come to harm,” Cochise says.

            Tom knows that he should ask for more details.  He’s putting his wellbeing entirely in Cochise’s hands and for all Tom knows, Cochise could secretly look down on his species, too. 

Talking about toilets sounds way better, though.  Now that he’s gotten his escape, after eighteen long years of pain and torture, Tom doesn’t want to think about tainting his escape.  He doesn’t want to think that the terribleness could have followed him all the way to the stars.  Doesn’t want to think about what that means about him, that he keeps drawing that kind of thing.

            “I trust you,” Tom says, rubbing Cochise’s arm again.  “And the rest of your toilet design seems pretty good for me.”

            “I am glad it meets with your approval.  I think it is an interesting feature to have in our quarters,” Cochise says, admiring it.

            Tom laughs, shutting the lid of the toilet.  “You’ve got a flair for interior design.”

            “Thank you, Tom,” Cochise says.  “I must report to my duty station, but I have left you a set of clean clothes and some reading material on my desk.  There is also a communication device that will connect to me automatically should you require me.”

            “Excellent,” Tom says.  “One quick question- what about food?  I don’t know how long your shifts are.”

            “A reasonable concern.  I have left some food for you on the desk, and I will return for my own meal,” Cochise says.  “I have one last thing that I believe you may wish to witness.”

            “What is it?” Tom asks.

            Cochise leads him to a wall in the main room and presses a button.  A section of the wall becomes transparent and suddenly, Tom is staring into space.

            Tom gapes, in awe.  Space is even bigger and more overwhelming when he’s in the middle of it.  He doesn’t know how he’s ever supposed to comprehend it.

            “No human has ever been this far from Earth,” Tom murmurs, trying to remember he needs to remember to breathe.  “No human has ever seen this before.”

            “You are a pioneer,” Cochise says.

            Tom feels like his face is about to split in two and he looks up at Cochise to see him looking down at him.  “Thank you, Cochise,” Tom says sincerely.

            “You are welcome, Tom.  I will leave the wall in window mode, simply push the button to close it,” Cochise says.  “I must leave now.”

            “Goodbye, Cochise,” Tom says, walking him to the front door.  “See you later.” 

            Cochise inclines his head and leaves, and Tom is by himself again.  By himself in the vastness of space.


	5. A Shower/A Revelation

            The first thing that Tom does, when he can tear his eyes away from the galaxy stretching out ahead of him, is get up to look at the clothes that Cochise left for him.  They’re made of a soft blue material- Tom wonders if Cochise is making an effort to make sure that the things he gets for him are any color other than grey- and he carefully takes them into the bathroom to set on the toilet. 

            He strips his old clothes off, setting them on the ground next to the toilet before leaning over to press his hand into the imprint that had turned the shower on last night.  As expected, the water turns on and Tom steps over to it.

            The water is too cold for a comfortable shower, but there are a few other newly raised bumps on the wall and Tom presses one.  He assumes that whatever they control are something that Cochise thinks he might need.

            The first bump Tom presses makes the water warm up, just a little, so Tom presses it a few more times until it’s heavenly warm.  He groans to himself as he steps under the spray.  It feels so sinfully good that Tom has to wonder if there’s something in the water. 

            There’s no washcloth or soap, but there are three more buttons that have yet to be pressed.  Since they’re all in the shower, Tom figures they’ll come in handy.

            Tom skips the next one, figuring it must make the water colder.  The next button Tom presses makes some kind of thicker liquid come out of the shower.  It initially grosses Tom out, until he realizes that it must be the Volm equivalent of soap. 

            He washes himself thoroughly with the stuff, running his fingers through his hair and then skimming them down his body to brush off the dirt and the grime.  Tom realizes that whatever it is, it is isn’t stinging his eyes.  That’s a bonus, even if Tom still wishes he had a washcloth. 

            When Tom presses the button again, the shower is running water again and he rinses himself.  He feels cleaner than he can ever remember being.  It’s probably all in his head, but Tom is enjoying it anyway. 

            Curious about the fourth button, Tom presses it and the water stops, replaced with a steady stream of air.  The air is the same temperature as the water had been- warm, balmy.  It’s what he imagines the Bahamas are like.

            It’s, uh, pretty stimulating because the Volm are apparently a very thorough species, and before long, Tom is completely dry.  Part of him wants to wander around in the nude for a little while, but he has no idea when Cochise will come back.  He doesn’t want to get caught naked. 

            Tom slides the top on; it’s a comfy tunic, but kind of big for him, falling somewhere around his thigh.  It’s kind of what he imagines wearing a dress would feel like.  It’s too short to just wear by itself, though, so he slips on the pants that Cochise left for him. 

            There’s no elastic or belt, and Tom kind of feels nervous that the pants are going to slide right over his hips.  After walking a few tentative laps around the bathroom, they stay where they’re supposed to be, which Tom chalks up to alien tailoring. 

            It feels really weird not having underwear, but Tom doesn’t know how to ask Cochise for it, or even if he should.  After all, underwear isn’t an actual necessity and Cochise is providing him with so much already.  Maybe underwear will come up in conversation?  Tom wouldn’t be surprised. 

            Tom takes his clothes and folds them up carefully.  Since he doesn’t want to go through Cochise’s things, Tom leaves the stack of clothes on the floor near the foot of his bed. 

            By now, his stomach is growling, so Tom grabs the plate of food.  It’s a slightly different selection from the night before, so Tom nibbles a little bit at everything before diving head first into it.  It’s not as rich as the meal the night before, but that’s okay- it’s breakfast, after all. 

            What he’s most interested in is the reading device that Cochise has left for him.  It’s a square device with rounded corners, and since it’s grey Tom assumes it’s standard issue.  He hopes that there are plenty of pictures, considering he doesn’t read the Volm language. 

            There’s a raised button, so Tom presses it carefully, startled when the screen comes to life and Cochise’s face appears. 

            “Hello, Tom Mason.  I have programed an instructional guide.  This is a simple device.  Simply touch the screen to select what you wish to read.  I have run portions of the Volm database through a rudimentary translation software.  I apologize for any errors.”

            He can just touch the screen and the device will respond?  That’s wild.

The screen flashes to a menu with all kinds of headings- botany, zoology, astronomy, literature- and Tom isn’t sure what to click first.  How does this tiny little device hold all of those headings?  And then he sees the history heading and clicks it right away.

            He’s awed at the sheer amount of history on the timeline that appears.  Assuming that the dating system is roughly equivalent, the Volm have thousands of years of history more than humans.  It’s mindboggling and Tom isn’t sure where to start. 

            Tom had wanted to study the founding of the United States, with a focus on the ideological foundations.  From the late 1750s to the early 1800s.  He had a vague interest in history of all kinds, of course, but that was where his historical heart truly lived. 

            Since it seems like as good of a place as any, Tom scrolls to 1750 and presses the number.  There’s a long list of events, battles mostly, and there’s a heading, too.  Continuation of the War Against the Espheni.

            The Espheni… that sounds familiar.  Are those the people that Cochise had mentioned before?  Aren’t they who Cochise is gathering allies against now?

            Tom navigates back to the main timeline and then goes from year to year, checking that it’s the same war.  The heading appears again and again, up to the present day. 

            So Tom goes backwards, trying to find the start of this war.  He scrolls further and further back and it’s 1598 when the heading disappears, replaced with Fall of the Volm Home World.  That’s years before the settlement at Jamestown. 

Cochise’s home had been lost years before the colonists had begun invading the Americas.

            He scrolls back through the Fight for the Preservation of the Volm Home World heading until he finds, simply, Invasion Begins in 1587.  That’s Elizabeth I’s reign in England.  That’s a long ass time ago.

            It’s then when it truly slaps Tom in the face just how much he doesn’t know.  How much he jumped into without even thinking about it. 

            Tom has to set the device aside for a minute to try to understand it.  This war that Cochise is involved in is older than Tom’s country by about 200 years.  Space is racing by outside him and he’s somehow ended up with an alien fighting in a war older than his country. 

            He’s not sure how long he stares out the window trying to wrap his head around the timeline, but Tom breathes deeply and picks up the device again.  There’s a lot of history to read.


	6. A Story/An Embarrassment

Tom has been reading for hours when Cochise comes back.  He doesn’t even notice at first, too engrossed in the history of Cochise’s people. 

            The bed sags next to him and Tom looks up, wild eyed.  He’s relieved when he sees that it’s Cochise sitting on the bed with him.  Tom doesn’t know who he expected, but after some of the things he’s read… he feels tense.

            “Are you alright?” Cochise asks.  “Were you able to operate the device?”

            “I’ve been reading about your people’s history,” Tom says, trying to catch his breath.  “It’s been an experience.”

            “Did you begin before the invasion?  It is a better time to read of,” Cochise says wistfully.  “A time when the Volm were at peace.”

            “No, I wanted to learn about the war,” Tom says.  “I mean, I’m here now, after all.  If I’m gonna be in danger- and you too- I want to know the historical context.”

            “You are highly intelligent,” Cochise says.

            Tom snorts and smiles.  “Thanks.” 

            “I hope that…” Cochise seems to struggle for the words.  Tom sits patiently, waiting.  Cochise has only spoken English for a few days maximum, after all.  “I hope that you do not regret your decision to come on our ship.  I know that the Volm have committed terrible deeds.”

            Tom thinks about the Volm high commander he read about who destroyed whole planets rather than let them be taken by the Espheni.  The amount of Volm who had been left behind on their home world as it fell, even when there had been a chance to save them.  The less advanced species that the Volm deemed less important targets for saving, compared to more advanced species who they viewed as potential allies.  Planets abandoned for the greater good.

            “What do you think of them?” Tom asks, curious.

            “I must not question the wisdom of my ancestors,” Cochise says and it sounds memorized.  “It is war, and in war, we must do what is necessary.” 

            “Is that what you really think?” Tom presses.

            “You have not told me whether you regret your choice,” Cochise says.

            “And you haven’t told me what you really think,” Tom counters.

            “It is immaterial,” Cochise says.

            “How can your opinions be immaterial?” Tom says.  “And, whether or not you support destroying planets for the ‘greater good’ kind of influences how I feel about you, about being in here.”

            “We are the Volm.  It is not our place to criticize our ancestors,” Cochise says, but then he sighs, continuing softly.  “But I hope that should I ever have to make such a decision, I would be able to find a different solution.  I wish to free people, not destroy them.”

            Tom smiles and rests a hand on Cochise’s arm.  “Then I don’t regret it.  Humans have some pretty terrible things in their history as well.”

            “That is most unfortunate,” Cochise says.

            “But it’s important not to forget the brave, valiant things your people have done as well,” Tom says, resting his hand on Cochise’s shoulder and squeezing gently.  “When the Espheni were losing badly to the Volm and offered a peace treaty, and even to give the Volm their home planet back, but your people refused because they would still rule over several worlds.”

            Cochise looks over at him, down to where Tom is pressing his hand into his shoulder, and then back to making eye contact.  “That is true,” he pauses.  “Do you have an interest in history?”

            “Yeah,” Tom says, carefully withdrawing his hand.  He crawls over so he’s sitting next to Cochise.  “When I thought I was going to be able to go to college, I was going to study history.  I wanted to teach it one day.”

            “Perhaps you will still be able to,” Cochise says.  “After all, you informed me when we met that you had stories to tell about human history.”

            “You’re really interested in that?” Tom asks.  People usually want him to shut up.

            “It is one of the reasons why I was interested in bringing you onboard,” Cochise informs him.  “While I did not inform my commander of such, it is one of the primary services I hope you will render.”

            “What did you tell him you’d want from me?”

            Cochise looks suddenly uncomfortable and scoots a little away from Tom.  “You must understand that I had to lie in order to convince him.  I do not actually require what I told him.”

            “What did you tell him?”  Tom asks, furrowing his brow.  He’s not sure what could make him so uncomfortable.

            “I told him you would,” Cochise makes a noise that Tom can’t place, “engage in sexual intercourse with me.”

            That’s… Tom frowns.  “Why would you tell him that?”

            “I am too young to procreate.  It is not uncommon for aliens to seek refuge with the Volm by offering sexual services to young Volm.  While we accept refugees for other reasons, it was the only way to ensure that my petition would be granted,” Cochise says urgently.  “If I had told them I was interested in your culture and I wished to protect you from someone doing you harm, it is unlikely that you would be here now.  My superiors would not have believed you had anything to offer.  But intercourse is not something that I will ever ask of you.”

            “Is anyone gonna, like, check up on this?” Tom asks.

            “No,” Cochise says, shaking his head.  “As we are not making an alliance with your people or engaging in battle on your planet, almost no one no one has learned your language.”

            “Okay,” Tom says, nodding.

            “Are you upset?” Cochise says.

            “I haven’t even been here a day, Cochise,” Tom says.  “It’s not like you’ve had loads of time to tell me about everything.”

            “I did not wish for you to think that I would ever take advantage of your status here,” Cochise says.  “I only require your stories, and even if you decided to withhold them, I would not abandon you on a strange planet.”

            Tom smiles, snorting a little.  That wasn’t something he had considered Cochise doing.  “That’s good to know.”  He’s about to say something else when he gets a familiar feeling in his digestive tract.  “Uhhh, Cochise?”

            “Yes, Tom?”

            “I don’t mean to rush you, but I’m going to need that toilet.  Soon.” Tom says. 

            “Oh,” Cochise says, getting up.  “I will attend to it.”

            “Thanks,” Tom says, feeling bad but also like he really needs to poop.  “I can keep you company while you work on the plumbing.”

            “That is most kind,” Cochise says.  He presses a button and a drawer slides out of the wall.  Pulling out a few tools and what looks like some piping, Cochise heads into the bathroom, Tom following behind.  “Please, tell me of your people.”

            “Oh, man,” Tom says, trying to figure out where to begin as he leans against the wall.  “I can tell you about my country’s government, or our history.”

            “History, please,” Cochise says as he begins to work on the toilet.  “You know of some of my people’s history, after all.”

            Tom tries to figure out what Cochise is doing, but he’s bad enough at human plumbing, never mind alien plumbing. 

            “My country’s first real president was George Washington.  His rise to prominence was pretty funny- some of it was a total accident,” Tom says, laughing a little.

            “How so?” Cochise asks.

            “So, before my country was a country, it was a colony.  It was a lot of colonies, actually.  And there were tensions between two of the major powers- the French and the British.  George Washington accidentally started off the war between the two countries,” Tom says.  “He did pretty well in the war, really made a name for himself.”

            “Perhaps it was a ploy, and he wished to gain power through battle,” Cochise says.  “It would be a cunning plan.”

            “Nah, but listen- it isn’t the French and Indian war that’s his biggest claim to fame; the British looked down on him because he was from the colonies.  There was only so high a colonist could go.  But the British started taking much more direct control of their colonies, which angered the colonists.  They had been used to being benevolently neglected- to mostly taking care of themselves.”

            “I have found that many species do not mind direct control.  They do not wish to control their own destinies,” Cochise says.  “We often direct survivors of attacks to refugee camps to fight their war for them, and they are mostly cooperative.”

            That surprises Tom.  “Really?  Well, humans aren’t like that.  The colonists ended up rebelling against Britain- then the strongest nation- and they made it so costly to win that Britain ended up retreating.”

            “Did your George Washington destroy the British?” Cochise asks.

            Tom laughs.  “Nah, the British are still around.  But George Washington gained the trust and admiration of his men and of the people.  They really loved him.  When a group of real smart men realized that the first government wasn’t working, they had to make sure he was there so that way people would accept the new government- and they did!  And George Washington was the first president of the United States of America, partially because of that accidental war he started even before the revolution.”

            “You are lying to me,” Cochise says, looking up from the toilet.  His smile lets Tom know that he isn’t serious in his accusation.  “That is most improbable.”

            “It’s true!” Tom says, laughing as he slides down to sit on the floor.  “It’s one hell of a coincidence, but history is funny like that.”

            “How did you learn of such things?  I thought you did not have formal training,” Cochise says, returning to work on his toilet. 

            “I learned some of it in school, and I grew up in a historical kind of city,” Tom says.  “The city was inspiring; I did a lot of research in libraries for fun.”  It kept him out of the house, away from his dad, and in a place where he could imagine all kinds of different lives.  So many of the people he read about came from terrible places too and became great- it reminded him that he could become great too.

            “I am looking forward to hearing more of your history,” Cochise says.  “I am most gratified that we decided to abduct you.”

            “Me too.  Most people don’t like to listen to this kind of thing,” Tom says, “especially not anyone I’ve ever lived with.”

            “You have never lived with an alien,” Cochise says.

            Tom is about to respond to that when his stomach cramps and he groans. 

            “Are you in pain?” Cochise asks.

            “I need to poop, badly,” Tom says.  “It’s not pleasant, but it’s not gonna kill me.  Might make a mess if I don’t get a place to poop eventually, though.”

            “I will work faster,” Cochise says.  “Do you wish to lay down?”

            “I’m good,” Tom says.  “Don’t worry.”

            “I do worry, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            Tom feels a warmth spread through him that has nothing to do with the distressing things happening in his digestive system.

            Cochise pulls out part of the floor and attaches part of the toilet to whatever it is he’s working on.  In a few minutes, he stands up. 

            “I will give you privacy to use your toilet,” Cochise says, walking towards the door.

            Tom gets up and practically dives towards the toilet, jerking his pants down as the door slides shut behind Cochise.  He’s pretty sure that pooping has never felt so good.  That is, until he realizes that he had forgotten a very important thing- toilet paper. 

            Aw shit, literally.

            “Cochise?” Tom says hesitantly as he makes sure that his shirt is covering him completely.

            “Are you alright?” Cochise asks through the door.

            “I need something to clean myself with,” Tom says.  “Something disposable.”

            “May I enter?” Cochise asks.

            “Yes,” Tom says, with some reluctance.  It’s more than a little embarrassing to be caught with his pants down.  He can feel his face flaming red.

            The door slides open and Cochise walks in.  He reaches into the inner layer of his clothes and pulls a strip of fabric; Tom flinches at the sound.

            “You didn’t have to tear your clothes,” Tom says.

            “It is the only disposable material available,” Cochise says, fingers brushing Tom’s as he hands him the fabric.  “I must return to my duty station now, but I will return in a few hours.”

            “Oh man, I didn’t even let you eat,” Tom says.  “I’m sorry.”

            “Volm do not require a midday meal- we merely take a mental break- so there is no need to apologize.  I have brought you food, however,” Cochise says. 

            “Thanks,” Tom says.  “And, thanks.” Tom gestures at the toilet he’s awkwardly sitting on.

            “It has been an enjoyable break.  I must thank you as well,” Cochise says.

            At least now Tom is alone in his utter embarrassment.


	7. The Human Act of Pooping/An Uncomfortable Conversation

            Scanning various sectors of the near galaxy is a simple task, and one which allows Cochise’s thoughts to remain in his room with Tom. 

            Cochise does not like leaving Tom alone, especially since he seems to be in such distress.  He does not understand the human act of ‘pooping,’- he wishes to but it seems like a private matter.  It also seems most unpleasant.  It had even turned Tom’s face a bright red. 

            Despite the distress pooping is causing Tom, Cochise cannot help but feel a sense of pride that he has been able to create a human toilet.  He still needs to modify the seat cushion, but it is a useable toilet, as far as Cochise knows.

            The silence at his station is enjoyable as Cochise continues to scan for new allies until someone comes and stands behind him. 

            “How are you enjoying your human?” Was-Shik, who had helped him abduct Tom in the first place, taps him on his shoulder.

            Cochise struggles to adopt the proper tone as he turns to face his comrade.  “He is quite enjoyable.”

            “I am glad.  You have been despondent recently,” Was-Shik says.

            “I will not allow my personal issues to enter the workplace again,” Cochise says.  It is embarrassing that he noticed.

            Was-Shik inclines his head, indicating that he believes Cochise.  “Are you having an issue with how fragile he is?  I know you had to take him to the infirmary.”

            “They were preexisting injuries,” Cochise informs him, not enjoying the direction this conversation is taking. 

            “If you are amenable, I would enjoy engaging in sexual intercourse with him as well.  He appeared quite soft and it could be an enjoyable time.”

            Cochise tries to prevent his nostrils from flaring in anger.  “It is not only my amenability that you would require; it is not me with whom you wish to engage in intercourse.”

            Was-Shik squints at him.  “If you were to ask, I am certain he would agree.  You have given him sanctuary after all.”

            Perhaps it is time for a more conventional response.  He wishes for this conversation to be finished.  It is making a sick feeling occur in his stomach.  “I wish to retain his services for myself alone.  He is my human,” Cochise says evenly, “and I do not wish for others to use him.” 

            Was-Shik nods in understanding.  “I will not inquire further.”

            Cochise returns to his work without another word, grateful that no one else comes to talk to him, especially about Tom.

            When his duty shift is over, he submits his analyses for the day.  He receives his allotment of food for the evening, carefully avoiding looking at his comrades.  If he is forced to consume his food in the common area, it will be longer before he can ensure Tom has not been damaged by his pooping. 

            Cochise arrives at his quarters without incident, opening the door and feeling lighter when he sees Tom curled up on his bed, reading again. 

            “I am pleased to see that you recovered from earlier,” Cochise says, setting the food on the desk.

            “What?” Tom says, looking up from his reading.

            “You seemed distressed while you were pooping,” Cochise explains, sitting in his chair.  “It was worrying.”

            Tom makes a noise and shakes his head.  “You don’t have to worry about pooping.  It’s a pretty normal thing.  I do it every day.  Humans just don’t usually talk about their pooping habits with, well, anyone, so it’s kind of embarrassing.” 

            “You are embarrassed by your natural bodily functions?” Cochise asks.

            “Yeah, I guess.  There’s a lot we don’t usually share with other people,” Tom says.  He tilts his head and he has contorted himself curiously- his knees are pulled up to his chest, tucked under his chin.  “We can be a reserved people.”

            “I do not understand why you are embarrassed by your own bodily functions,” Cochise says.

            “What?  And you guys aren’t?”  Tom asks.

            “We are not, unless they are indicative of some form of weakness.  Normal bodily functions are no source of shame for the Volm,” Cochise explains. 

            “So if I wanted to watch you use your toilet, you’d be okay with that?” Tom asks.

            Cochise inclines his head in agreement.  “Do you wish to witness me urinate?”

            Tom’s face reddens again and he struggles with an answer.  “I’d still feel like I was violating your privacy.”

            “I would not feel similarly.  Under some conditions, we share bathrooms with many of our comrades,” Cochise says.  “Many Volm have witnessed my urination, and I would not be embarrassed to have you witness it as well.” 

            It is unusual for them to watch each other urinate for fun, but Tom is a curious person, so Cochise would understand.

            “I still don’t think I need to watch you pee,” Tom says, his lips turning upwards.  “Thanks, though.”

            “You are welcome and do not be embarrassed should you change your mind,” Cochise says.

            Tom stretches his body, yawning.  “I’m so sleepy.  I haven’t done anything all day and I’m still so sleepy.”

            “You must rest, then,” Cochise says. 

            “But you just got back!”  Tom says.  “I don’t want to waste all the time that we have together.”

            Having someone desire his company is an enjoyable feeling, Cochise is discovering.  He has never felt as if he entirely fit in with the other Volm, and that feeling only deepened when his brother died. 

            “I do not want you to exhaust yourself, especially when you are still adjusting to your new environment,” Cochise says.  “You and I will have much time to talk.”

            “I’ll eat first and then I’ll sleep,” Tom says.  He gets up, brushing his hand against Cochise’s shoulder gently as he passes.  The casual tactile nature of this human is somewhat unsettling for Cochise, but he does not mind.  From what he has been able to discern, Tom has had to cope with too much pain and rejection for Cochise to wish to add to it unnecessarily.

            Tom eats slowly and Cochise is envious of how he seems to enjoy their food, far more than Cochise has seen any Volm enjoy it.  Perhaps it is like the colors, and they perceive the food differently. 

            Tom tells him more of the history that he has discovered, but he does not press Cochise for his opinions.  It is a relief; what Cochise had told Tom earlier was a form of treason that Cochise could have gotten in trouble for if another Volm had heard. 

            “Goodnight, Cochise,” Tom says again after he has eaten and he has pulled the blanket up over his shoulders.  

            “Goodnight, Tom,” Cochise says softly. 

            Tom smiles softly at him as his eyes slide shut.  There is a tenseness in him that Cochise cannot help but notice.  It begins to slip away when he falls asleep.  The tenseness does not disappear completely, even when he is asleep, which is most unfortunate. 

            Cochise observes how Tom shifts and twists in his sleep for a little while.  It is remarkable how much he moves.  He realizes that, in light of how Tom views urination, he might view this as a breach of his privacy, and the notion startles him.  As he does not wish to violate Tom’s privacy in any way, Cochise immediately busies himself with other work.

            Every once in a while he sneaks peeks over at Tom, just to ensure he is alright.


	8. A Routine/An Un-Routine Conversation

            They get into a really pleasant routine.  They eat breakfast quietly together- Tom is too groggy in the mornings to say anything intelligent, and Cochise leaves for his duty station.  In the mornings, Tom tries to start exercising once he notices his stomach getting a little bigger.  A couple jumping jacks, some sit ups, some pushups. 

            Exercising never really was Tom’s thing, though, so he tires of it pretty quickly once he starts sweating too much.  It’s a perfect excuse to take a shower, and he tends to waste plenty of time in there, luxuriating in the warmth and cleanliness. 

            Once he’s dried off, it’s time to go back to Volm history.  He’s figured out how to take notes and highlight on the Volm device, which makes it easier to keep track of important people.  If he doesn’t assign them a color or a shortened nickname, it’s kind of hard for Tom to keep track of the long names. 

            When Cochise comes back for his lunch break (or, mental rest break, as he calls it), he always brings Tom a plate of food and questions about what he’s read that morning.  They discuss it, and Tom notices that Cochise steps carefully around criticizing any of the Volm too harshly, only expressing a hope that he would be able to do things differently, and even then, only when Tom presses him for an opinion. 

            Cochise has to go back to work too soon, and damn, do Volm have long work days.  By the time Cochise gets back, Tom is sleepy and hungry, so he always eats quickly before falling asleep.  There’s something comforting about the noise of Cochise going about his work in the background.  He’s always fiddling with something or reading in his chair.

            Tom realizes, one morning, that he’s lost track of how long he’s been with Cochise.  It’s been over a week, he’s pretty sure.  But he doesn’t know how long exactly.  He wonders if that should worry him, but it doesn’t bother him at all.

            What does bother him is that he doesn’t feel like he’s doing anything for Cochise.  Yeah, he tells him all the history stories that Cochise wants, but Cochise feeds him, clothes him, makes all kinds of modifications for him, and probably plenty of things that Tom doesn’t even know about. 

            “Do you, uh, need me to do anything around here?” Tom asks Cochise one evening.  He’s sitting up in bed, blanket wrapped around him. 

            Cochise is sitting on his bed with him.  Tom had insisted that sitting in the chair all the time couldn’t be that comfortable, and Cochise had reluctantly agreed.  “You have been performing your duties admirably, Tom.”

            “I don’t _have_ any duties, Cochise.  I feel like all I do is tell you stuff about history, most of which you probably already know, at least when it’s Volm.  I mean, I try to keep things tidy too!  But it’s not much,” Tom says.  He scoots forward and lets his legs dangle over the bed.  “And you’ve done so much for me.  All the food, clean clothes every day, how you put the bumps on everything so I can use them.  God, that’s not even all of it.”  That’s not even all of the most important stuff.

            “You have done much for me as well,” Cochise says from behind him.

            Tom shakes his head, swallowing around a lump in his throat.  “You don’t understand.  I had to live with my dad for eighteen years.  And every time that I thought I was going to get out, something got in the way.  You got me out, even if you didn’t know what you were doing.  There’s nothing I could do for you that could pay you back for that, not totally, but surely I could do more than just tell stories.”

            Cochise moves forward so he’s sitting next to Tom.  He leans forward until Tom feels like he has to turn and make eye contact with him.  “When I was young, I did not often feel as if I fit in fully with the other Volm.  The exception was my brother, with whom I spent much time when we were still on the nest ship.” 

Tom makes a note of the unfamiliar term, but doesn’t ask what it is.  Cochise’s voice is serious and he almost sounds breakable.

“He was a few years older than I was, so we would have to meet in secret.  He would read to me.  He had unusual tastes and was fond of poetry.  After he came of age, we still remained in contact.”

Cochise pauses, breathing deeply, and Tom can tell that whatever Cochise is going to tell him isn’t going to be good.  Tom sets a careful hand on his back in the hopes of comforting him at least a little. 

“A few months ago, my brother was killed in battle with the Espheni.  It should not be the cause of such distress- he died with honor, killing an overlord and freeing a planet in the process.  I have still found it difficult to deal with this loss.  It has even been noticeable to my comrades,” Cochise says quietly.  “But I have found that while the grief remains, I look forward to our conversations and to the time we spend together, and it has become easier to deal with my loss.  You see, it is you who have accidentally done me a great service, Tom.”

Tom is speechless.  He had no idea that Cochise had any family at all. 

“I am sorry to have burdened you with my problems, but I did not wish for you to believe your presence is in any way insignificant to me,” Cochise says. 

“Don’t apologize,” Tom says quickly.  “And I’m real sorry for your loss.  I’ve never had a brother, but I imagine it’s hard to lose one.”

“It should not be,” Cochise says.  “As Volm, we know from a young age that we and our family will fight and, inevitably, die.  It is why we are separated by age, to avoid the kind of attachment I had for my brother.  My brother died well, and as such, I should no longer be bothered by a deep desire to talk to him again.”

Tom begins rubbing gentle circles into Cochise’s back, feeling the ridges under his hand.  “There’s nothing wrong with being upset over losing someone important.  I locked myself in my room for days when my cat died.”

“A small, furry mammal that humans have domesticated,” Cochise says.  At Tom’s surprised look, he says, “You are not the only one who has been reading.”

Of course Cochise has been reading up on his culture.  “I didn’t mean to compare the loss of my cat to the loss of your brother.  She was just… probably the best friend I ever had before you.” 

Cochise makes a slight humming noise.  “Cats seem to be fearsome creatures, from the literature I have read.  My brother would approve of the comparison.”

Tom’s lips quirk upwards. “I’m glad.”

“If you wish to take on more responsibility, I can begin training you in basic self-defense, as I promised when we first met,” Cochise says.

“That seems like it’d just be another thing that you would be doing for me,” Tom says.

“Not so,” Cochise says.  “It is every Volm’s duty to learn to protect themselves and the Volm people.  I will not require you to fight, of course, but you still must know how to.”

Tom considers it for a second and then nods.  “Okay.”

“We will go to the shooting range tomorrow,” Cochise says.  “For now, you must rest.”

Tom takes the cue and nods, removing his hand from Cochise’s back.  Cochise stands up and Tom lays down.  He pulls the blanket up tight around him.  There’s a heaviness in his heart.  Still, he’s appreciative for what Cochise has shared with him. 

“Thank you,” Tom says to Cochise’s back. 

Cochise is shaking slightly and he doesn’t turn around as he says, “Have you not been paying attention?  It is I who should thank you.”

It takes a while for Tom to fall asleep.


	9. A Gun/A Meal Out

            Tom holds the gun nervously.  He’s never held a real weapon before, has no idea how to shoot, and really, really wants to impress Cochise.  It’s a bad combination for actually performing well.

            “You’re sure I can’t accidentally hurt you with this?” Tom says, pointing it away from either of them. 

            “I would not hand a new trainee a deadly weapon,” Cochise assures him.  “This is similar to what I was given when I was young and still on the nest ship.”

            “It’s a children’s toy?” Tom asks.

            “Yes,” Cochise says. 

            That Tom is practicing shooting with children’s toys is both relieving and fills him with great concern about what Cochise’s childhood was like.

            “Okay, so, just point and shoot?” Tom asks.  “I don’t see a target.” 

            Cochise presses something on the wall (Tom wishes he could see the colors so badly) and suddenly, an alien appears.  It’s got a bunch of legs and two arms and it looks weird as hell.  Definitely not Volm.  Tom doesn’t know what to make of it.

            Tom jumps and backs away.  “What the hell?!”

            “This is one of the underlings of the Espheni,” Cochise says.

            “I can’t shoot a real thing, Cochise!  I can’t shoot a living thing!” Tom exclaims, looking up at Cochise’s impassive face.

            “It is a training machine.  It would be unsafe to keep actual Esphni underlings on the ship,” Cochise says. 

            “It looks like a real thing,” Tom says, swallowing hard and taking a few steps towards it.  “I mean, I’ve never seen one of these Espheni dudes, but this looks alive.”

            “I assure you, it is not,” Cochise says. 

            “Is this what you used as a kid, too?” Tom asks, voice trembling a little.

            “After we gained proficiency with still targets,” Cochise says.  “We do not have any still targets onboard, though, as we are all warriors.”

            “I don’t… I don’t know if I can shoot something that looks so alive,” Tom says, biting his lip.

            “If you ever must shoot something, it will most likely be alive,” Cochise says, tilting his head.  “It makes sense to practice on something that is most similar to that which you will have to kill.”

            Tom is now very concerned about Cochise’s childhood.

            “I guess that’s right,” Tom says.

            “If you do not wish to undertake self-defense training, that is acceptable.  You do not have to be a warrior; you are not Volm,” Cochise says.  “I would not think less of you.”

            “I just figured it’d be like self-defense on Earth.  Like, how to throw a punch or throw someone off of you or…”  The things he had wished he had known when he was on Earth.  “I didn’t think it’d be shooting something that looked alive.  We don’t have stuff like that back on Earth.”

            “I am attempting to modify Volm hand to hand combat for you, but I do not wish to hurt you,” Cochise says softly.  “Volm bodies are much more resilient than human ones, and our methods require a certain amount of willingness to injure one’s self, at least under some circumstances.  It could injure you more severely than intended.”

            Tom presses his lips together and nods.  “I appreciate that.  I can take a few hits though, you know?”

            “Yes, I am aware.  However, I do not wish to be the source of your pain, especially since you are still healing from your previous injuries,” Cochise says. 

            “They’re pretty much healed,” Tom says, patting Cochise’s arm.  “Your magic medicine works pretty well on humans.”

            Cochise sighs and is having some kind internal debate that Tom sits and watches patiently.  He, evidently, comes to no conclusions.  “We should continue with the shooting lesson.  I will make it stop moving.  It will appear still.”

            The robot or whatever freezes.  It’s three dimensional, which is kind of odd, but it no longer looks alive. 

            Tom nods, stepping away and taking the stance that Cochise showed him.  “Okay, I can shoot that.  Or, well, try at least.” 

            “Spread your legs slightly more,” Cochise instructs.  “Excellent.”

            Tom brings a shaky arm up to aim at the target.  His aim is unsteady, so he brings up his other hand to try to steady himself.  He doesn’t aim at the face, but at the torso.  It seems less real.

            He takes a deep breath and fires, twice.  Both shots hit the wall behind the target. 

            “That was an admirable first attempt,” Cochise says kindly.  “You must attempt to calm yourself.” 

            Tom nods, raises the gun, tries again.  He hits the wall. 

            It takes seven or eight tries for Tom to actually hit the target.  Cochise makes a noise that Tom decides to interpret as proud, and when Tom turns to look at him, he’s smiling, so Tom decides he’s right.

            Tom keeps firing, starts hitting the target more often.  Cochise chimes in with advice about how to improve his aim and stance every once in a while. 

            He doesn’t know much about Earth guns, so he doesn’t have anything to compare it to, but there’s no kickback and it seems pretty light.  It also doesn’t shoot bullets, which he knows is definitely different from Earth guns. 

            “I am pleased with your progress,” Cochise says after a few hours.

            “I’m still missing the target,” Tom says miserably. 

            “You have begun hitting more than you miss,” Cochise says.  “It is an improvement, and improvement is important.”

            “If you say so,” Tom says.  He had wanted to impress Cochise if he was gonna do this, not miss, miss, miss. 

            “I believe you require nourishment now,” Cochise says.  “We can eat in the common area, if you wish.”

            “Really?” Tom says.

            “You have been locked in our quarters for far too long, and for that, I apologize,” Cochise says.  “And I hope to rectify this.”

            “Cool,” Tom says, carefully handing Cochise the gun and following him out of the shooting range. 

            “What about this involves a lowered temperature?” Cochise asks. 

            Tom laughs.  “It’s an expression.  It means that it’s-“  He realizes that he’s not entirely sure what cool means, at least not in a way that he can explain to Cochise.  “It’s just kind of something you feel.  Like, it’s awesome.” 

            “I am still uncertain as to what ‘cool’ means, but I trust it is a positive statement,” Cochise says.

            “It is,” Tom says, smiling up at him.

            They continue the rest of the way in silence.  Mostly because he’s so aware of how the Volm are both staring at him and ignoring at him.  No, not even ignoring him.  It feels like they don’t even notice he exists.  Like he’s not even someone worthy of notice.  Some _thing_ rather than someone. 

            But he also has the acute feeling that all of the Volm, other than Cochise, are acutely watching him, analyzing him.  Even though he kind of knows about the Volm by now, he doesn’t know what they’re analyzing him for.  Signs that Cochise has been _using_ him like they think he is (do Volm think about each other’s sex lives?) or that he’s being mistreated in some way?  Or are they just curious about having another alien onboard?

            “Are you alright?” Cochise asks quietly as they’re gathering food from some machine that Tom can’t identify.  “If you wish, we can return to our quarters.”

            “I’m fine,” Tom murmurs.  “I want to eat here.”  He wants to Volm watch.

            “As you wish,” Cochise says, leading them to an empty table in the corner. 

            Tom sits where he has the best view, watching as the Volm go by.  At first glance, they all appear very similar, but once he takes more than a cursory glance at them, Tom can spot the differences between them.  They all seem to move very rigidly, though.  It’s kind of spooky.

            “You must not stare so obviously,” Cochise urges, leaning forward.  “It is considered rude, especially for an alien staying on the ship.”

            “Sorry,” Tom says, eyes going right to Cochise, even as he keeps track of the Volm in his periphery vision. 

            “It is alright,” Cochise says.  “I simply do not want you to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself.”

            “It feels like everyone is watching me anyways,” Tom says. 

            “They are,” Cochise confirms, “but they are subtle about it.  It should not interest them, so they must pretend it does not.”

            “Why can’t they be interested?” Tom asks.

            “What other Volm do in their off time is private,” Cochise says.  “It is not our concern, and usually, we do not concern ourselves with such.”

            “Then why are you so interested in you and me?” Tom asks.

            “I have…” Cochise struggles to find the word.  “I have argued against other Volm bringing aliens onboard.  While the aliens may initially seek asylum and understand what they are signing up for, once they are here, very little protects them from Volm who are uncaring.”

            “And now you’ve brought an alien onboard, supposedly to satisfy your sexual desires,” Tom supplies.  “Which makes you a hypocrite, in their eyes.” 

            “Thus their interest in you and our relationship,” Cochise says.  “I am sorry that you are now under such scrutiny.”

            “And I’m sorry you are.  I hope nobody gives you any trouble,” Tom says.  “If being out here makes you uncomfortable, we can you know, not do this again.”

            “Do not worry about me, Tom,” Cochise says.

            “Of course, I’m gonna worry about you,” Tom says.

            “Of course, if something happens to me, your status will be questionable,” Cochise says.

            Tom rolls his eyes and snorts.  “You’re my friend, Cochise.  My status has been questionable since I was a little kid.  I’m worried about you because I like you.”

            “That is most kind,” Cochise says.

            It’s weird that they can have this conversation about the Volm, surrounded by other Volm, in the middle of a cafeteria.  Everyone can overhear them, but nobody understands them.  Conversely, Tom can hear dozens of Volm voices around him and can’t pick out a single word.  He likes the sound of the language though. 

            Would it be weird to ask Cochise to read to him in his native language?  It would probably sound even better rolling off of Cochise’s tongue.  Tom’s got to find a way to ask, at least.


	10. A Friendly Interrogation/A Reading

“Can I, uh, ask you about something?” Tom asks that evening during dinner.

            “Of course,” Cochise says. 

            “When you said that what I was using was a children’s weapon, what did you mean?” Tom asks.  

            “What I said,” Cochise says.  “I have no further explanation.”

            “But, like, how old were you?  When you started learning to fight?” Tom asks. 

            “We begin learning how to fight when we are five,” Cochise says.

            Tom tries really hard not to gape at that.  “When you’re five?  But you’re still a kid at five.  A little one.”  Sure, Volm are aliens, but he can’t imagine any kind of alien being ready to start fighting at five.

            “We are young hatchlings, yes, but we must start our training young, so we are well equipped to go to war,” Cochise says. 

            “What about, like, school?” Tom asks.

            “Learning to fight is an important part of our education.  We also learn much about history, engineering, and other information that will make us more effective warriors,” Cochise asks. 

            “Do you guys do arts and crafts?” Tom asks.

            “Art is not necessary.  While some, such as myself, may admire the works of the past, creating new work distracts from our goal,” Cochise says.

            “That’s… kind of sad,” Tom says. 

            “It is war,” Cochise says softly.  “We do what we must.”

            “So you don’t really write poetry or literature either?”

            Cochise’s skin turns a slightly bluer grey and when he speaks, it’s awkward and halting.  “I have found poetry interesting ever since my brother read it to me.  As such, I do sometimes write poetry, in secret.”

            Tom grins and perks up.  “Really?  You do?  Could I read some?”

            Cochise flushes even bluer.  “It is in the Volm Standardized Tongue.”

            “Could you read it to me, then?” Tom says. 

            “You will not understand it.  It is in the Volm Standardized Tongue.”

            “I know, but…” Tom bites his lip and shrugs.  “I like how your language sounds- I heard so much of it yesterday.  And I think I would still get a sense of it from the tone of your voice.”

            “I will consider it.  I must confess that it is not very good.  Our language was not redesigned for lyricism; it is not as beautiful as your own,” Cochise says.

            Tom smiles reassuringly.  “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I just think it’d be nice.”  He pauses, trying to fight the desire to ask another question.  Cochise is bearing the brunt of an interrogation tonight, which seems kind of unfair.  “Redesigned?” 

            “Yes,” Cochise says.  His face is slowly returning to its usual shade.  “We used to have a multitude of languages and dialects.  One of the first things that our commanders did was to standardize to ensure that communication was clear.  Impractical words were removed as well.  The old languages and dialects are stored on datachips now, and very few Volm pay attention to them.”

            “What kind of words?” Tom asks, frowning.

            “I do not know.  It was many hundreds of years ago, and I am not a linguist,” Cochise says. 

            “I wonder what they kicked out,” Tom says.

            “It must not have been important,” Cochise says.

            It sounds like a massive kind of censorship to Tom, and suddenly makes him wonder about the history he’s been reading.  He’s less worried that it’s been tampered with than with the sheer amount of atrocities the tamperers left in.  Usually people leave out destroying worlds when rewriting history.  “What if it was?”

            Cochise looks at Tom, eyes wide.  “It cannot have been.”

            Tom suddenly feels like he’s walking on very uncertain ground, so he decides to swing this conversation back around to something else.  “You know, maybe you should try a little art sometime.” 

            “What do you mean?” Cochise asks. 

            “Part of what you wanted me for was my culture, right?” Tom asks.

            Cochise inclines his head.

            “Everyone does art when they’re little, even if they don’t go on to be artists,” Tom says.

            “You as well?” Cochise asks.

            “Of course, we had classes in school.  I was absolutely terrible at it,” his dad always made sure he knew that, “but I still thought it was pretty fun.”

            “What would doing art require?” Cochise asks.

            Tom thinks about it.  “Something to draw with, sketch with.  Color!  We’d definitely need color.”

            “What are your colors made of?” Cochise asks.

            “I’m not sure what crayons are made of…” Tom says, thinking hard.  “I think wax.  I don’t know how they color it, though.”

            “I will see what I can do,” Cochise says.

            “Awesome,” Tom says, stretching and getting up to pad across the room to put his dinner back on the desk.  “I’ll be right back.”

            “Are you emptying your bladder?” Cochise asks as he walks towards the bathroom.

            “Yeah, don’t worry.  It’ll be quick,” Tom says over his shoulder.  “Then it’ll be bedtime.”

When he comes back, Cochise is perching on the edge of his bed, reading something.  Tom takes a second to admire how serene he looks before walking back to his bed.

“Whatcha reading?” Tom asks as he slides under the covers.  He carefully presses his toes against Cochise’s back, trying to make it seem accidental.  Cochise is so warm and his toes are so cold, and Cochise never minds.  Or he never says anything, at least.

“Some of my poetry,” Cochise explains.

“Awesome,” Tom says. 

“I will read it to you as you fall asleep.  I have noticed that you are less attentive when entering unconsciousness, so hopefully you will not remember much,” Cochise says.

Tom laughs softly and wiggles his toes against Cochise’s back.  “Cochise!  I didn’t know you were so sneaky.”

Cochise turns and looks down at him, and Tom would swear there’s more warmth than he knows what to do with.  “I am a skilled warrior.  Stealth is occasionally necessary.”

“I’m helpless against your stealth.  I will lay here and listen, and probably forget half of it,” Tom says. 

“I will begin now,” Cochise says.

Cochise’s voice drifts over him, softer than his normal speaking voice.  It’s all incomprehensible, of course, but Tom feels like he can get the gist of it.  Much of it sounds too lonely to bear, but there are sparks of happiness, too, that seem to blossom and bloom. 

Tom was, honestly, never much for poetry.  Most of what the teachers said sounded totally made up.  Symbolism, or some crap like that.  There were the occasional pieces he liked, but they were few and far between.

This, though.  This is smooth, washes over him.  It keeps him in that happy, warm state between being awake and being asleep.  Tom’s everything has shrunk down to the warmth at his feet and the soft voice surrounding him.  It’s a marvelous kind of bliss.


	11. A Scare/A Stranger

Tom feels soft and warm when he wakes up the next morning.  The last thing he remembers is Cochise’s voice washing over him, reading him his poetry.  It had been nice, but Cochise had been so nervous that Tom has resolved not to say too much about it, unless Cochise asks.  As much as Tom would like to let him know how much he enjoyed the poetry reading, Cochise seems like the kind of person who could get spooked by too much effusive praise, no matter how genuine.  His poetry in particular is probably a tender subject, since it’s connected with his brother.

He wants to stay curled up forever, but Tom opens his eyes anyway and his stomach drops out. His friend is laying on his back on the floor, motionless.  “Cochise?” he says hesitantly, hoping that Cochise responds.  “Cochise!”

Heart beating with fear, Tom bolts out of bed and to Cochise’s side.  He shakes Cochise’s shoulder gently.  “Cochise, wake up.”  His voice breaks.  “Please.”

Cochise still doesn’t move, even as Tom shakes Cochise’s shoulder with more urgency.  Not again, please not again.  His heart keeps beating faster and faster, and Tom has to take a step back to calm himself.  He takes a few, deep breaths, and it’s then that he notices that Cochise is breathing too.  That’s got to be a good sign, right?  

It _is_ a good sign, Tom tells himself sternly.

Tom doesn’t know what to do- he doesn’t know how to speak to other Volm or even know how to leave the room.  He can’t even put Cochise in his bed to be more comfortable.  Cochise is too heavy and Tom might accidentally hurt him.  Since Cochise is still breathing, Tom decides to wait it out, trying hard not to panic.

Tom had never been much for prayer- God never listened to him before- so Tom sits next to Cochise.  He puts his hand on Cochise’s warm shoulder, rubbing gently.  There’s nothing else to do other than wait.

He doesn’t know how long it is until Cochise’s eyes open, but when they do, Tom’s heart skips a beat and he breaks into a wide grin.  “Cochise!  You’re okay!”

Cochise sits up, and before he can think better of it, Tom hugs Cochise tightly.  He had, not so deeply, been afraid that Cochise wasn’t going to wake up. 

When Cochise doesn’t do anything, Tom pulls back, face flushing.  “Sorry.  I was just worried about you.  I kept shaking you and you didn’t wake up.”

“I am sorry for worrying you,” Cochise says, voice thin.  “I did not intend to sleep so long.”

“You were _asleep_?  I thought you were in some kind of a coma,” Tom says.

“I am sorry,” Cochise repeats.  “It is a weakness of the Volm.  It is very difficult to awaken us from sleep.  You could have done me great harm and I still would not have awakened.” 

            “That’s kind of scary,” Tom says.

            “We take precautions, and do not sleep around those which we do not trust,” Cochise says.  “We also sleep in short bursts as opposed to the extended sleep cycles of many speeches, such as yours.”

            “But you slept in here last night, with me in here,” Tom points out.

            “I do trust you, Tom.  The mistake was not falling asleep in here, but in sleeping for so long,” Cochise says.  “I was more tired than anticipated.”

            Tom is pleased that Cochise trusts him enough to, from the sounds of it, put his life in his hands.  “Have you been sleeping on the floor?”

            “It does not bother me,” Cochise says.  “I have slept in much less comfortable places.”

            “I just feel bad about taking your bed,” Tom says.

            “It is your bed now,” Cochise says.  “I have given it to you.”

            “You know what I mean,” Tom says.

            “I do not,” Cochise says. 

            Tom sighs and shakes his head.  “Nights when you sleep, you should take the bed.  It’s really your bed.  I’ve slept on the floor plenty of times before.”

            “I will not,” Cochise says.  “I wish for you to be comfortable.”

            “And I want you to be comfortable, too,” Tom says.

            “I am fine, I assure you,” Cochise says, squeezing his arm gently.

            Tom realizes that that’s the first time that Cochise has actually initiated physical contact with him.  He never seems to mind when Tom touches him, but he’s never been the one who touches Tom.  Tom swallows hard.

            “Do you want to share?” Tom asks, jerking his head towards the bed.

            Cochise starts turning blue.  “I have informed you already, that I do not-“

            Tom cuts him off, laughing the implication off.  “Just to sleep.  It’s fine, I promise.”

            “It would not be a good idea,” Cochise says.  “And I do not sleep enough that it is necessary.” 

            “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” Tom asks.  “There’s plenty of room.”

            “I have already informed you that it is not a good idea!” Cochise says, voice starting to sound angry.

            Tom’s heart beats faster- this time in a bad way- and he scoots back away from Cochise.  “I-I’m sorry.”

            “I must leave for my duty station now,” Cochise says, voice still stern, and then gets up without looking at Tom again.

            Tom watches Cochise leave, knees tucked under his chin.  He keeps his face as blank as possible, not wanting to betray his internal dismay.  He’s managed to piss off the one person who cares of him, and Tom has to stop his train of thought in his tracks before it goes somewhere bad.

Cochise _isn’t_ his father.  Cochise _isn’t_ going to come back and hurt him because he’s mad and they’re kind of fighting or whatever has happened.  It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.  Cochise has already promised, multiple times, that he wouldn’t hurt him and he’s never given Tom a reason to doubt that.  They can talk out whatever Tom did wrong like real, actual people.

Tom brushes his eyes angrily and takes a shower.  He realizes that they didn’t have breakfast, so he’s hungry as well as miserable and skulking in a bad headspace.  Great, great.  He really shouldn’t have bothered opening his eyes this morning.

He’s getting dressed when he hears noise from the main room.  “Cochise?” Tom hates the waver in his voice. 

There’s no answer.

Tom opens the door and steps into the main room, shocked to find a stranger standing near the desk. 


	12. A Gender/A Hug

Tom stares at the strange Volm in the room.  He’s kind of scared after what Cochise had said about how the Volm’s respect for life was iffy at best.  That, and that he knows that the stranger can’t speak to him makes his presence all the more confusing.  At least this Volm is kind of small, at least compared to Cochise.  He’s slightly less intimidating, even though the Volm could still definitely beat him up.

“You are the human?” the stranger says. 

“You speak English?” Tom asks.

“Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol believed that you would be more comfortable if you could communicate with me.”

“Communicate with you for what?” Tom asks.

The Volm gestures towards the desk, where a tray of food is sitting. “Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol tasked me with bringing you food.  They did not mean to leave so abruptly.”

“They?” Tom asks, confused.

“Is that not your language’s gender neutral pronoun?” the Volm asks, frowning.  “I have done extensive analysis, and I am certain that is English’s gender neutral pronoun.”

“Are you the linguist Cochise mentioned?” Tom hazards a guess.

“Xenolinguistics,” the Volm says.

“That explains why you speak English,” Tom says, nodding.  “I’m Tom.”

“From what Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol has said, you could not pronounce my name.”

“Probably not,” Tom says, rubbing his arm.  “I just call him Cochise.  You could pick a name if you like.”

The Volm thinks about it for a minute.  “You may call me Chal.  It is a shortened portion of my full name.  That is how you construct your nicknames, is it not?” 

“Yeah, usually,” Tom says.  He still feels kind of overwhelmed by this morning, so he sits down at the desk.  “It’s nice to meet you, Chal.”

“You did not answer my question,” Chal states.

“Oh, sorry,” Tom says, shaking his head a little.  “What was it again?”

“Is ‘they’ your language’s gender neutral pronoun?”

“I guess?  It’s not super popular, but it’s the closest we have.  Why?”

“You expressed confusion when I referred to Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol as such.” 

“Is Cochise not a he?” Tom asks, confused.

“Volm do not have genders.  It is an arbitrary distinction that serves no purpose, especially now.”

Man, so maybe he’s been accidentally insulting Cochise this whole time.  It’s just one thing after another today. 

“He- they?- had a brother, though?” Tom asks.  “Shouldn’t he-they- have said sibling?”

Chal shakes their head.  “It is my fault.”

Tom waits for an explanation, but none seems forthcoming.  “Uh, how?”

“I ensure that our translations of alien languages are sound.  It is not always a perfect system, and it is not important for planets where we are not fighting,” Chal explains.  “I am attempting to better our English translation since you are here, but it is not my primary goal.”

“Wow, uh, thanks,” Tom says.

“I owe Chichauk Il'sichninch Cha'tichol a debt and this is how they have chosen to have me repay it,” Chal says. 

“Still,” Tom says, “it’s nice of you.”

Tom wants to ask them about whether Volm have some kind of taboo against sleeping in the same bed, but then he realizes that everyone thinks they already share a bed.  He can’t risk it.

“It is my duty.  And now I must return to my duty station to complete my actual work,” Chal says.

“Thanks for the food, and the conversation,” Tom says.

“I am certain we will speak again,” Chal says, turning and leaving.

Tom eats the food that Chal brought him, thinking over what they said.  So, Cochise can’t be too mad at him if he’s still feeding him and making sure that the Volm who brings him food speaks English.  That’s got to be a good sign. 

He’s still lost in thought when Cochise comes back for lunch. 

“I, uh, don’t have anything historical to talk to you about this afternoon,” Tom’s voice is painfully stiff, sticking in his throat.  He’s super conscious of his body language and he forces himself to not be too defensive.  No curling up like a little kid.

“That is good.  I have something else I wish to discuss with you,” Cochise says, bringing over their lunch and sitting gingerly on the bed beside him.  “I must apologize for my anger earlier.  I should have had better control.  It was not your fault.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Cochise,” Tom says.  “I won’t ask about it again.”

“We are not a very tactile people,” Cochise says.  “And thus your recommendation that we share the bed was a startling suggestion, given the nature of our relationship, and I did not behave well.  It is no excuse, but it is an explanation.”

Tom looks down, ashamed.  “Have I been making you uncomfortable?  With the touching?” 

He remembers from his very early childhood that touch can be a good thing, that it doesn’t always have to bring pain.  It’s the kind of thing that he’s wanted to recapture, somehow.  And something about Cochise had just seemed right for that.  Now Tom realizes he had been being selfish.

“You have not, I assure you.  It was startling initially, but I found it pleasant and so I did not say anything.  I find it difficult to respond, however,” Cochise says.  He carefully, deliberately places his hand under Tom’s chin and nudges his face upwards so he’s looking into Cochise’s face.  Cochise is smiling warmly at him.  “You have not done anything offensive to me.”

Tom smiles widely back at him, still feeling kind of shaky.  “You’re sure?  Because I was talking to Chal- the xenolinguist- and, uh, they said I might have.”

“What?” Cochise asks, removing his hand from Tom’s chin. 

“They said that you don’t have gender.  That none of the Volm do.  I’ve been, uh, calling you a ‘he.’  Like you’re a dude.  Do you want me to stop?” Tom asks. 

“Which pronouns do you use for yourself?” Cochise asks. 

“I’m a guy, so ‘he,’” Tom says. 

“Then you may use those pronouns for me as well,” Cochise says.  “I do not have strong feelings either way, but I would prefer being categorized with you.”

“Okay, cool,” Tom says, feeling better.

“I am sorry that I was unable to bring you food this morning myself,” Cochise says.  “I was needed in a meeting, and I was not certain you would wish to see me.”

“Chal was nice, don’t worry.  It was nice having someone else to talk to,” Tom says.

Cochise’s face flashes with some kind of emotion, and Tom quickly adds, “Just for a little variety and a different perspective.  You’re still my favorite Volm.”  He pats Cochise’s arm, just in case it was hurt or jealousy. 

Cochise makes a contented noise.  “I am certain I will be able to arrange for you to spend more time with them.” 

“Chal told me that you were cashing in some kind of favor so the Volm translation of English would be better,” Tom says, smiling.  The afternoon has refreshed some of his feelings of warmth and happiness from earlier.  “I mean, I don’t know how big of a favor translating a language is, but it seems like a pretty big one.  So, thanks.  That’s real sweet of you.”

Cochise shakes his head.  “It is quite selfish of me.  If I wish to fully understand you and your culture, our lines of communication must be as clear as possible.  I also wish to be able to read some of your writers, and while you will explain when your language is unclear to me, they will not.”

“Who are you reading?” Tom asks, curious.

“One day, I hope to read Shakespeare.  Have you heard of him?” Cochise asks.

Tom laughs a little.  “Yes, he’s one of the most famous English writers.  I read him in high school.  He wrote a long time ago, so he’s really hard for modern day English speakers to read sometimes.  I know it probably doesn’t change for you guys, but on Earth, language changes a lot.”

“That sounds like it must be the source of much confusion,” Cochise says.

“Well, if you’re reading Shakespeare, yeah.  But not otherwise.  It happens naturally, you know?  So you catch on to the changes pretty easily,” Tom explains.  “You should try F. Scott Fitzgerald or someone a little more recent.”

Cochise inclines his head.  “I will take this information under advisement.”

“If you need help with any of those guys, I can try,” Tom offers.  “I’d say we could read Shakespeare together, too, but I was pretty bad at it even when I had someone helping me.  I don’t think I could help someone else.”

“I understand, and I thank you for your offer,” Cochise says.

“I’m really glad that we were able to talk out our argument,” Tom says hesitantly after a few minutes of silence.  It’s a dumb thing to say, and he knows it, but he wants Cochise to know how grateful he is that they’re not ignoring it, or worse.

“That is how we will always settle our disagreements,” Cochise says warmly. 

“It’s really nice,” Tom says.

“I concur,” Cochise says, resting a tentative hand on Tom’s arm.

Tom smiles encouragingly. 

“Should I cross a physical boundary, you must promise to inform me,” Cochise says seriously.  “I do not wish to harm or accidentally offend you.”

Tom nods.  “I will, I promise.  And you too, okay?  Because I hadn’t even thought about maybe making you uncomfortable.”

“I will,” Cochise agrees. 

“Do you guys hug?” Tom asks, smiling over at him.  This feels like a hugging moment. 

“Hug?” Cochise asks, shaking his head.

“Like what I did this morning, when I got over excited and wrapped my arms around you,” Tom explains. 

“The Volm do not often ‘hug,’ but you and I may hug if you wish,” Cochise says.

Tom stands up and Cochise follows suit.  He steps forward, wrapping his arms around Cochise with a deliberate care.  His head rests on Cochise’s warm shoulder and he breathes in deeply.

Cochise stiffens slightly beneath his touch, but doesn’t say anything.  It takes a few seconds before Cochise returns his embrace.  When he finally does, though, his arms are warm and gentle around him. 

“Am I hugging you properly?” Cochise asks, his deep voice reverberating through Tom. 

“You’re a natural,” Tom says. 

“This is most pleasant,” Cochise says.  “I feel… quite close to you, not merely physically.”

“Me too,” Tom murmurs.

“Thank you for introducing me to hugging,” Cochise says when they finally pull apart. 

“Anytime,” Tom says.  He tries and fails to keep the big smile off his face.

“I must return to my duty station, but this has been an enjoyable break, Tom,” Cochise says.  “Perhaps the most enjoyable.”

“Have a good afternoon,” Tom says, still beaming, even when Cochise has left and he’s alone. 

Tom stretches out on the bed, reading his datapad and suddenly full of contentment.  It’s been worth it.  Every lousy day that brought him to this alien spaceship has been worth it.


	13. An Art Lesson/An Exchange

“I have brought you something,” Cochise says the next day, hands hidden behind his back. 

Tom perks up.  “What?” 

Cochise holds his hands out to reveal multiple rectangles of various colors.  “For your art.”

“Our art!” Tom says.  “We’re both art-ing, Cochise.”

“I do not know how to draw,” Cochise says.

“I’m a terrible artist,” Tom says.  “It’s okay.  You just have fun.  Where’s the paper?”

“We not have paper,” Cochise says.  “I believed that you could draw on the walls.”

“Cochise, I don’t think you want me drawing on the walls.  Like I said, I’m not good at it,” Tom says. 

“This will ensure that the walls are a color that you can see and that you find the decoration pleasing,” Cochsie explains.  “With the exception of the wall where the mural is, you should draw as you wish.”

“You too,” Tom says, getting up and grabbing a green crayon. 

“What should I draw?” Cochise asks.  “What do humans draw?”

“Anything,” Tom says.  “Scribbles you think are pretty, something that makes you happy.  Anything that’s good.”  He pauses.  “Of course, actual artists draw things that make them sad, too, but I’d really rather you didn’t on the walls.”  He doesn’t want to look at Cochise’s sadness all day.

“What if it is not good enough?” Cochise asks quietly.

“It’ll be wonderful,” Tom assures him. 

Tom gets down on his knees and begins shading in the ground of his drawing towards the bottom of the wall. 

“What are you drawing?” Cochise asks.

“A place,” Tom says.  “Somewhere I used to run away to.  I’d wiggle out my window, when things got too bad and he’d lock me in my room.  There was a swing in the backyard of this abandoned house next door.  I loved swinging back and forth.”

He searches around for the brown crayon, snatching it up.  Tom is very careful as he draws the swing and the trunk of the tree that had been next to it.  In reality, the tree had died and it had kind of lingered over him the whole time, but Tom gives it big, green leaves in his drawing anyway.  He wants to remember it as alive and vibrant, no matter what the truth of the matter is.

“Did you spend much time there?” Cochise asks. 

“When I was little,” Tom says distantly.  “But one day my dad came to let me out of my room earlier than he said he was going to, and when I got back, he was waiting.  It was a bad night.  He boarded up my window after that so I couldn’t get out.”

Tom is startled when a gentle hand brushes through his hair, but it’s soothing as he keeps drawing.  Cochise’s fingers are long and careful and for the first time, Tom realizes that his hair must be getting pretty shaggy.  He hasn’t seen himself in a mirror since he arrived and he had been overdue for a haircut even before he came to live with Cochise. 

“Do you feel trapped in a similar manner here?” Cochise asks after a time.  “You do not often leave this room and I do not wish to be as your father was.”

Tom looks up sharply.  “Of course not, Cochise.  For one thing, you don’t do it to punish me or to make it easier to hurt me.  For another, you feed me, like, all the time.  Three times a day, and I’m pretty sure that if I asked, you’d do it even more often.  And I had at least kind of guessed that there would be limits on an alien spaceship.  Once I got a little older, I realized it wasn’t really normal for your dad to lock you in your room over the weekends sometimes.  Plus, if I asked you to take me out more often you would, right?”

Cochise nods, eyes filled with concern. 

“Then this is totally different,” Tom assures him.  “Oh!  Plus I have an actual bathroom here, not just a bucket.”  That’s key.

“I worry sometimes,” Cochise says haltingly.  “That I have somehow taken advantage of your vulnerability and exploited you for my own gain.”

Tom shrugs a little as he goes back to drawing, Cochise’s hand still in his hair.  “Maybe.  I mean, a perfectly happy kid with his whole life ahead of him doesn’t run off with an alien on a whim.  If I had the money to go to college, I probably wouldn’t have asked to stay.  But this is the happiest I’ve ever been, and I’m living out a kind of weird version of my dream of teaching history, too.  I don’t have any complaints.” 

Cochise breathes heavily through his nostrils and Tom stands up to look him square in the eye. 

“Look, Cochise, you can worry about exploiting me- which you’re really not doing, I promise.  Or you can enjoy our friendship and accept that maybe it’s gonna be a little weird because, technically, you have all the power,” Tom says.  “But I feel safe here, okay?  I feel safe for the first time since I was little and that’s because of you.”

“I am glad that you feel safe here,” Cochise says softly.  “And I wish to do everything I can to ensure that you continue to be safe and happy.” 

“You’ve made it more than clear that if I have a problem, I can talk to you about it,” Tom says.  “And one more thing, okay?”

“Of course,” Cochise says.

“Don’t ever, even passingly, compare yourself to my dad again, you got that?  You’re not like that at all,” Tom says, voice hard. 

Cochise inclines his head.  “I will be more careful with my words in the future.”

Tom nods, satisfied with that answer, and turns to see what Cochise has drawn.  It looks like some kind of flower, with big yellow petals and big purple leaves. 

“This is a Catarius flower in partial bloom,” Cochise says.  His voice has taken a softer, more wistful turn.  “They are native to my planet.  My brother read me a poem about them once and showed me images.  I find them beautiful.  One day, long after I have fallen, they will grow again on our homeworld.  I am certain of this.”

Tom rests a hand on Cochise’s shoulder, rubbing gently.  “It is beautiful.”

            “Thank you, Tom,” Cochise says.  “They are naturally a different color, but I did not wish to draw with colors that you cannot see.”

            “Thanks,” Tom says softly. 

            “We still have much blank space to fill,” Cochise says seriously.

            “We don’t have to do it all at once.  We can take our time,” Tom says. 

            “I like that idea,” Cochise says. 

            And so drawing slips into their routine as well.


	14. A Sickness/A Cold Compress

            Tom wakes up one morning feeling sick to his stomach.  Cochise had brought him something special the night before, and while it had been tasty, it had, apparently, not been good for his stomach.

            Without even waving good morning to Cochise, Tom stumbles into the bathroom.  It’s not that unusual- he usually needs to pee when he wakes up.  Cochise is used to the ‘extraordinary frequency with which humans urinate.’  Instead of peeing, though, he drops to his knees and starts vomiting into the toilet.

            “Tom?” Cochise’s voice comes from the other side of the door.  “I am hearing unusual noises.”

            Tom is too busy throwing up to say anything.

            “If you do not respond, I am going to come to come check on you,” Cochise says.

            “I’m sick,” Tom manages to say.

            Cochise opens the door and enters the room.  “I must take you to the infirmary.”

            “I’m okay,” Tom says, waving him off, even as he throws up again. 

            Tom sees Cochise fidgeting beside him, clearly uncertain of what to do. 

            “Can you get me some water?” Tom asks, mostly to give him something to do.  “And a cold compress?”

            “Of course,” Cochise says, bringing him a glass of water before bringing him a damp strip of cloth. 

            Tom sits next to the toilet, sipping the water and setting the cloth on his forehead.  He notices that part of Cochise’s clothing is torn again.  They need to have a conversation about washcloths. 

            “I will inform my superior that I am incapable of performing my duties today,” Cochise says, kneeling beside him.

            “It’s just food poisoning,” Tom says.

            “Someone has poisoned your food?” Cochise says, straightening.  “I will discover who, do not worry.”

            Tom laughs weakly and puts a hand on Cochise’s arm.  “Not like that.  It means there was some kind of bacteria in the food last night that made me sick.” 

            “Your skin is a higher temperature than normal,” Cochise says. 

            “Fever,” Tom explains before turning to retch in the toilet again. 

            “I do not wish to leave you in this state, Tom,” Cochise says.

            “I’ll be okay,” Tom says.  “I’ve been sick loads of times.”

            Cochise walks into the main room and returns with the communication device.  “If you require anything, do not hesitate to use this.”

            “Okay,” Tom says, smiling weakly. 

            Once Cochise is gone and he’s sure that he isn’t about to throw up again, Tom crawls back to his bed.  He wants to shower, but he feels too shaky and feverish. 

            The communication device beeps and Tom scrambles to find it and press the button.  Cochise’s face appears in miniature. 

            “Hey,” Tom says.

            “How are you feeling?” Cochise asks.

            “I don’t have anything left in my stomach to throw up,” Tom says, “so I think I’m going to try to nap until you come back.”

            “Are you certain you do not wish for me to return now?” Cochise asks.

            “I’m okay,” Tom says with a wan smile.

            “I will bring you medicine when I return,” Cochise says.

            “Is that a good idea?” Tom asks.  “Volm bodies and human bodies are different.”

            “I will confer with the doctor,” Cochise says.

            “Just make sure you bring me more to drink, please,” Tom says.  “I don’t want to get dehydrated.”

            “Anything in particular?” Cochise asks.

            “Something with electrolytes,” Tom says.  “I think that’s super good for hydration.”

            “I will bring you the liquid as requested,” Cochise says.

            “I’m gonna nap now,” Tom says.  “Thanks for checking up on me, though.”

            “Of course.  I will see you in a few hours,” Cochise says before turning off the device. 

            Tom tries to sleep, but he actually just lays there, shaking, sweating, and feeling pretty gross.  God, he hates being sick.

            He’s out of it when Cochise comes back, vaguely aware of someone else in the room.  Cochise’s sweet voice says his name and Tom struggles to sit up and respond.  There’s a cup at his lips so Tom sips, feeling the liquid slide down his throat. 

            Cochise’s hand rests against the side of his neck.  “Your body temperature is alarming.”

            “Bad fever,” Tom says. 

            “Are you certain you do not require medical attention?” Cochise says. 

            “I don’t…” Tom is shivering.  He doesn’t know anything about medical care beyond cuts and broken bones.  “I think you have to cool me down.” 

             “I am capable of lowering my body temperature.  Are you still amenable to sharing your bed?”

            Tom nods, shaking.  “Anything.” 

            Cochise shirks off his work clothes and lays on the bed beside him.  His skin is cool to the touch, and even though Tom is so cold already, he forces himself to curl up against Cochise, draping himself over his rapidly cooling friend.  He rests his head on Cochise’s chest, blindly grabbing one of his hands and placing it on his other cheek. 

            “Is this okay?” Tom asks.

            “Yes,” Cochise says, voice strained. 

            “Talk to me,” Tom murmurs.  “Please talk to me.”

            “On what subject?” Cochise asks.

            “Anything,” Tom says.  “In Volm, if you don’t know what to say.”

            Cochise’s voice is an incomprehensible rumble beneath him.  It’s soothing, calming, even as he keeps shaking from fever.


	15. A Shivering Human/A Trip to the Infirmary

            Cochise holds his human, working hard to lower his own body temperature so that Tom’s body temperature will be lowered in turn.  He does not know if what he is doing helps, but he hopes so.

            He keeps talking, even after his throat is sore, hoping that his voice provides a comfort.  Cochise speaks of his affection for Tom, as Tom has mentioned the concept of ‘good vibes’ and Cochise believes that he could use some.  In his native tongue, of course. 

            While Cochise is inclined to trust Tom when it comes to human matters, Cochise wonders if he should have ignored him in this instance.  Tom’s shaking has increased, and it is not the only concerning behavior Tom has begun to exhibit. 

            Tom has begun to murmur.  At first, Cochise believed it was a genuine attempt to communicate, but it is mostly incomprehensible. 

            Every once in a while, Tom shifts and retches over the side of the bed.  Not much more than fluid comes out of him.  Cochise does his best to keep him steady and aiming in close to the same place.

            He is not fully asleep, so Cochise stirs him every once in a while to drink more fluids.  Tom had expressed a desire to remain hydrated, and it seems to be the only thing that Cochise can do for him. 

            Tom makes an alarming sound and buries his face in Cochise’s chest. 

            “Are you becoming sicker?” Cochise asks, switching over to English. 

            “It’s happening,” Tom mutters, shaking harder.  “I found her and she was dead and he said that it would happen to me, that he couldn’t wait.  It’s happening like he said.”

            Cochise feels his pulmonary system react to Tom’s words.  “You are not going to die, Tom.”

            “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Tom mutters, and Cochise strains to be able to hear him.  “I deserve it.”

            “You must not think like that.  You must attempt to get better,” Cochise says before coming to a decision.  “I am taking you to the infirmary, Tom.”

            Tom shakes his head.  “He’ll get mad.  He’ll get mad and he’ll take it out on you.”

            “No one will be mad, Tom,” Cochise says, shifting so he can carry Tom, but Tom starts thrashing.

            “No!  I won’t let you get hurt for me,” Tom mutters, starting to cry.  “You can’t do this.”

            Cochise is concerned by how nonsensical Tom sounds.  “Tom, I believe you are confused.  You are on the Volm ship with me; you are safe.  You must relax.  I will keep you safe, but you require medical attention beyond what I can provide to you.  It has been six hours since I returned, and you deteriorating.”

            Tom looks at him, but doesn’t really seem to see him.  “I’m scared, so scared.”

            Cochise strokes his face.  “I will be with you the whole time, I assure you.”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Tom murmurs, slowly slipping into unconsciousness.  “Doesn’t matter, nothing matters.”

            Cochise lays Tom out on the bed, finding the cold compress from earlier, refreshing it, and then placing it back on Tom’s forehead.  He lifts Tom up carefully, walking down the hall to the infirmary.  There are few other Volm out at this hour, and those that are around give him sideways glances, which Cochise studiously ignores.

            “I need you to attend to my alien pet,” Cochise tells the doctor.  

            “We do not treat sick aliens after initial intake,” the doctor says.  “What happens to them is your responsibility.”

            “I know you have done it before,” Cochise says, laying Tom on the medical table.  “He requires a hydration drip and antibiotics to fight the illness in his body.”

            “It will cost you,” the doctor says.  He comes around and rests his hand on Tom’s stomach.  “I will take him for a night once he has recovered.”

            “No.  We will come to another arrangement,” Cochise says, firmly removing his hand.  “I do not share what is mine.” 

            “You do not have anything else of value,” the doctor says, turning away in disinterest. 

            “I have food rations,” Cochise offers, trying to not watch Tom’s shaking body.  He must not reveal how much he values Tom’s life.  “I will split them with you for two weeks.”

            “I have enough food, Chichauk,” the doctor says.  “What I require is companionship.”

            Cochise takes a deep breath.  “If this alien makes a full recovery, I will pay with my own body.  Not a full night, but enough to satisfy you.”

            The doctors nods his assent.  “I will give him a hydration drip and the medication he requires.” 

            Cochise turns his attention to Tom, feigning disinterest as he watches him shake and shiver.  It is painful to watch, but he knows that he must. 

            “You are going to be okay,” Cochise assures him in English.  “The doctor is going to give you the medicine you require.”

            Tom is murmuring to himself and Cochise cannot understand him, so he sets his hand on Tom’s forehead, hoping that it will soothe him. 

            “You do not have to stay here,” the doctor says after inserting the hydration drip. 

            “I will remain,” Cochise says.  He had promised Tom, after all.  And he’s not entirely certain he trusts anyone other than himself around Tom.  The only exception is, perhaps, the xenolinguist. 

            The shaking gradually lessens and Tom’s skin slowly begins to feel like its normal temperature.  Cochise brushes some of the hair out of his eyes and tries not to smile too widely as Tom’s eyes flutter open many hours later. 

            “Cochise?” Tom murmurs.

            “Hello, Tom,” Cochise says.

            “What…?” Tom says. 

            “You became sicker while you slept.  I decided you needed medicine and brought you to the infirmary,” Cochise says.

            Tom finds his hand, squeezing it gently.  “Thanks.”

            “How do you feel?” Cochise asks. 

            “Like hell,” Tom says. 

            “You are looking much better than you were,” Cochise says. 

            “Mmph, must have been bad, then,” Tom says. 

            “Do you believe that you can walk?” Cochise asks.

            Tom tries to sit up and then shakes his head.  “I don’t think so.” 

            “If you are amenable, I will carry you back to our quarters,” Cochise says.

            Tom nods.

            “We are leaving,” Cochise informs the doctor. 

            “Give him this medication at two hour intervals,” the doctor says, handing him six vials. 

            “I will,” Cochise says, pocketing them. 

            “I will see you soon,” the doctor says.

            “After he is well again,” Cochise says before turning back to Tom. 

            Cochise carefully lifts Tom up, making sure to support his head.  He carries him back to their quarters and lays him gently in his bed. 

            “I’m sorry I smell,” Tom jokes, turning to face him. 

            “I find your odor pleasant,” Cochise says. 

            “Now you’re just flattering me,” Tom says, smiling brightly up at Cochise. 

            “I am being truthful.  However, if you wish to bathe, I will help you.”

            “You’ve already wasted a lot of time with me while I was sick,” Tom says.  “I’m sure you have a lot of other things to do.”

            “I wasted no time,” Cochise informs him.  “I do not regret anything.” 

            “You’re wonderful,” Tom says. 

            “You are as well,” Cochise says, holding Tom’s hand carefully.  Some of the things that Tom said while he was sick concerned Cochise.  “I wish for you to know that, no matter what else has happened to you or what you have witnessed.”

            “Did I say something when I was feverish?” Tom asks, frowning at him.

            “You are still weak from your illness,” Cochise says.  “Perhaps we should wait until you are feeling stronger.  You have not eaten in well over a day.” 

            “I still don’t know if I can stomach food,” Tom says. 

            “Then you must rest,” Cochise says.  “Until you feel better.” 

            “I still want to talk,” Tom says.  “About whatever I said.”

            “You mentioned finding someone, who died, and expressed a fear that someone would hurt me because of you.”

            “Oh…” Tom says, looking away.  “Maybe I should sleep.”

            “I will be here when you awaken,” Cochise says.

            “Could you…” Tom begins to say. 

            “What?” Cochise asks.

            “Never mind,” Tom says, closing his eyes. 

            Cochise rests his hand on Tom’s head, stroking his hair gently as he falls asleep.


	16. A Healing Process/A Reproductive Process

            Tom wakes up to the feeling of Cochise shaking him gently.  It’s time for his next medicine dose.  He opens his mouth blindly, feeling like a baby bird, and swallows the bitter liquid.  This is his second dose, and it still tastes nasty.

            “I think I could try some food,” Tom says.  “A little bit.” 

            “You are certain?” Cochise asks. 

            Tom opens his eyes.  “Mostly sure.”       

            Cochise helps Tom sit up, even though he feels so weak.  He goes to get some food off of the table.  “Please, eat carefully.”

            Tom nods and takes the plate from him.  He takes a few bites, feeling it settle heavily in his stomach.  He keeps ahold of it in case he gets hungry later.  “I think this is all for now.”

            “How are you feeling?”

            “Better all the time, thanks to you,” Tom says.

            “Do you wish to talk now?” Cochise asks.  “You were most upset when you were feverish.”

            “I had a fever dream, I think,” Tom says.  “It was surreal.” 

            “In what way?”

            “I was real little when my mom died.  I found her.  My dad always blamed me for that, even though he was the one who wouldn’t take her to the hospital,” Tom says in a flat voice.  He always, resolutely refuses to think about it. “I had this vivid dream that you were there with me, that my dad was threatening you too.  I think because you were trying to get me to go to the hospital- it was kind of confusing- but I didn’t want you to get hurt, especially not for me.”

            Cochise looks at him strangely, but then his face goes blank.  “I would not be afraid of your father, if he was here.”

            Tom laughs a little, more to give him a few seconds to compose his thoughts than because anything is funny.  “I dunno, he could get pretty scary sometimes.”

            “I have fought many battles, and I have learned to conquer my fears,” Cochise says. 

            Tom wishes he could put his fears aside so easily.  It’s so stupid how he’s afraid of his dad, even from here.  “How about you and your family?  Will you tell me about them?  Other than your brother, I mean.”

            “The Volm do not have family units.  We are raised on ships with other hatchlings our own age,” Cochise says. 

            “No parents?” Tom asks.

            “A small group of Volm are trained to raise hatchlings,” Cochise tells him.  “They train us, monitor our health.  We communicate with our biological parents varying amounts, depending on what they prefer.”

            “So like a big sleepover?”

            “More like, we live in training camps for most of our childhoods.  That way we can become the best warriors the Volm can produce,” Cochise says. 

            “That sounds rough,” Tom says.

            “It is the training all Volm receive,” Cochise says.  “It is necessary.” 

            “Was it always like that?” Tom asks.

            “No, the Volm used to have family units,” Cochise says.  “We decided it caused many unnecessary problems and switched to using the nest ships instead.  This allowed us to fight without worrying about our offspring and allowed our warriors to truly be warriors.”

            “Did you like it?” Tom asks. 

            Cochise pauses, as if he had never considered it.  “It did not matter.  Happiness or ‘liking it’ was never the purpose of our childhood.  I became a strong, capable warrior, and that is the most important thing.”

            “I’ve never heard anyone describe their childhood like that,” Tom says. 

            “And I have never heard someone describe their childhood like yours,” Cochise says.

            “To be fair, that’s not how most Earth childhoods are,” Tom says.  “Usually, there’s more playing with your parents, I think.  Fewer beatings.”

            Cochise sighs deeply.

            “What?” Tom asks.

            “It is unfortunate that your childhood was uniquely cruel, but I am also… relieved that it is not the standard for your people,” Cochise says. 

            “Me too,” Tom says.  He has a desperate need to change the subject.  “So, uh, you said something about hatchlings?  Like, from eggs?”

            “Of course,” Cochise says.

            “No way!” Tom says.  He tries to think of something intelligent to say, but he’s also feeling weak as hell.  “Like a bird?”

            “I am not well acquainted with aviary reproductive habits,” Cochise says.

            “Of course not,” Tom says, berating himself.  “But, seriously, you hatch from eggs?”

            “Our eggs are approximately a foot long,” Cochise says, “and they hatch after five weeks of nesting.  Every Volm is capable of both producing and fertilizing eggs.  There have even been reported cases of self-fertilization, but such cases are rare.”

            Tom has to bite his tongue to ask if they were like Volm Jesuses or something.  There would be too much explanation there that Tom is too weak to provide.  “So you could, like, lay an egg?”

            “Of course, when I reach complete sexual maturity.  Are you not capable of laying an egg?” Cochise asks.  “Is there something wrong with your reproductive system?”

            “Hey, my reproductive system works just great,” Tom says.  Not that he’s actually ever tested it out on anyone other than his own hand, but judging from those tests, it works great.  “Humans don’t lay eggs, period.  We have live births.”

            Cochise doesn’t actually have a nose, but Tom swears, if he did, Cochise would have wrinkled it at the mention of live births.  “Not to disparage your people, but that sounds most unpleasant.” 

            “Yeah, most of what I’ve read says so,” Tom agrees.  “But I won’t ever have to go through it.”

            “It is most unlikely that you would be in a position to bear young, being that you are the only human on this ship,” Cochise agrees.

            “True,” Tom says, “but not what I meant.  Only half of the species actually gets pregnant.  The other half fertilizes the stuff.  I’m in the fertilizing half.” 

            “That does not sound like an efficient system,” Cochise says.  “What if one of the halves of the population died?”

            “Well, if it was my half, I guess they’ve started figuring out how to make babies out of donated sperm,” Tom says.  “But if the other half of the population died, I guess we’d be screwed.”  Or not, as the case may be.  “It’s not going to happen, though.”

            “How can you know this?” Cochise says.  

            “Well, I mean, we all live together.  It’d be really hard to target one half of the population that’s totally mixed in with the other half,” Tom points out.

            “You do not keep them separate from you?” Cochise asks.

            “Of course not!” Tom says. 

            “That is most unusual,” Cochise says.

            “Are you telling me that most of the galaxy segregates themselves based on sex?” Tom asks, disbelieving. 

            “Many planets do, in cases where there are obvious sex differences,” Cochise says.

            “Man, I never would have been able to make out with a girl if we had been segregated,” Tom says, sighing wistfully.

            “You have reproduced?”

            Tom laughs and shakes his head, taking a few more bites of food.  “No way!  I’m only eighteen.  I just made out with her after math class sometimes.  We were both pretty desperate.”

            “You ‘made out’ with her?” Cochise asks.

            “Don’t tell me you guys don’t make out with each other.  Kind of mash your faces together?  But it’s actually way more fun than that,” Tom says.  “I mean, I figured you guys must considering you keep sex slaves and all.” 

            “We do not ‘make out’ with each other or with our alien pets, at least not that I am aware,” Cochise says.  “We engage in intercourse that is necessary for procreation, but that is all.”

            “But if Volm keep aliens, surely they’re doing stuff that won’t result in an egg,” Tom protests. 

            “I do not know what other Volm do with their pets,” Cochise says, “but we are taught to only engage with each other when attempting to produce an egg.”

            “Hey, there are plenty of people who try to teach that back on Earth, too, but plenty of people ignore them,” Tom says.  He totally would have if he could have gotten someone to do it with.  Maybe.  “I’m sure Volm are the same.” 

            Cochise nods slightly.  “We do- on occasion- engage in intercourse for pleasure or other reasons, even when we are not capable or attempting to produce an egg.” 

            “Did you ever…?” Tom asks, but then quickly realizes that’s a personal question.  Sure, him and Cochise have shared some intimate things, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to be nosy.  “Never mind, sorry.  I shouldn’t’ve asked.”

            “I have, yes,” Cochise says.  “Several times.”

            “Not surprised,” Tom says, smiling up at him. 

            “You are unsurprised to find I am somewhat poorly behaved?” Cochise asks, clearly offended. 

            “No, no,” Tom says, reaching out.  “I just meant that you’re, like, really good looking, so I’m not surprised that you got it on with someone.  It was a compliment, or at least I meant it to be.”

            Cochise tilts his head, examining him.  “I will take it as such.  Thank you for your kind words.  I am glad you find me aesthetically pleasing.” 

            “I do,” Tom assures him.

            “I find you aesthetically pleasing as well,” Cochise says, “which is somewhat startling.”

            “Startling?” Tom asks, pretty sure he should be offended.

            “Your species is small and frail,” Cochise says.  “It is not something which should be aesthetically pleasing.”

            “Are you insulting my species?” Tom asks.

            “I am stating facts.  Your body is much less capable of handling stress than my own, and your planet lacks any kind of technology to compensate,” Cochise says.  “But you are somehow full of strength despite that.” 

            Tom really can’t tell if he’s being insulted or not.  If it wasn’t Cochise, he would assume he was definitely being insulted.  “Thank you?” 

            “You are most welcome, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            Tom smiles softly to himself, finishing his food.  His stomach starts to shake a little bit, but he manages to keep the food in his stomach.  That’s got to be a good sign.  He puts his empty plate aside. 

            Cochise takes the plate from him and then returns with his datapad.  “In case you become bored.  It has been some time since you have been capable of reading, and you must miss it.” 

            Tom thanks him, takes the datapad, and then begins immersing himself where he left off.


	17. A Secret/A Nap

            “Are you certain you are completely better?” Cochise asks him a few days later. 

            “Yeah!” Tom says.  “Thanks to you, my stomach is totally better and I’m no longer feeling so weak.”

            “And you are eating an average amount of food for your species?”

            “Yep!” Tom says.

            “This is good news, Tom.  I have been worried about you when at my duty station,” Cochise says stiffly.  “I will be gone tonight after you go to sleep.  I am informing you so that you do not worry if you wake up and cannot find me.”

“Big meeting?” Tom asks.

            “I have personal business to attend to,” Cochise says.

            “A date, then?” Tom asks, wiggling his eyebrows.  Except, the idea of Cochise dating someone else fills him with a weird kind of jealousy. 

            “I would ask that you not inquire about where I am going tonight,” Cochise says flatly.

            “Oh,” Tom says.  “I won’t.  Never mind.  Sorry.”

            “I will be back by the time you awaken, should you awaken at your usual hour,” Cochise says. 

            “That’s good.  Thanks for telling me, Cochise,” Tom says, feeling awkward.  He hadn’t meant to be nosy, but Cochise usually tells him where he’s going and what he’s up to.

            Tom tries to fall asleep that night, but he can’t, so he just lays there and pretends he’s fast asleep.  He doesn’t want to worry Cochise any more than he did when he got sick.  Instead, it’s Tom’s turn to worry as Cochise mutters to himself in Volm, sounding agitated. 

            Cochise comes over to him, and Tom thinks he’s busted until Cochise murmurs something softly in Volm before touching his face carefully, tracing his way from his forehead, down his nose, over his cheekbone, and down to his jaw.  After a minute, Cochise gets up and leaves. 

            “What was that about?” Tom murmurs to himself. 

            He manages to get a few hours of restless sleep, tossing and turning unhappily.  It’s weird, not having Cochise working quietly.  All he hears is the hum of the ship’s engines.  They’re so quiet that sometimes Tom forgets they’re flying through face at crazy fast speeds. 

            Tom slips out of bed and opens the window so he can watch the space go by.  He stares at it for a little bit before sliding back under his covers to watch.  There’s something entrancing about watching the stars.  It helps Tom drift off to sleep until the door slides open again.

            Cochise walks slowly over to the bathroom and Tom hears the shower turn on.  He listens as Cochise takes a lengthy shower. 

            Tom keeps his eyes open when Cochise comes back.  Something about him seems off.  He seems uncomfortable somehow.  Cochise paces the room, seemingly unable to sit down.

            Tom clears his throat a little.  “Are you okay, Cochise?”

            Cochise jumps a little before turning to look down at him.  “Did I wake you up?  I apologize.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Tom says. 

            “You have another two hours of rest,” Cochise says. 

            “It’s okay, Cochise.  But you didn’t answer my question.  Are you okay?” Tom asks.

            “It does not matter,” Cochise says.

            Tom frowns.  “What do you mean?  Of course it matters.”

            “It does not.  I have done what I must and that is all that matters,” Cochise says.

            Tom sits up, wrapping the blanket around him.  “Why are you talking like a fortune cookie?”  Sure, he’s used to not always getting what Cochise means, but it doesn’t usually feel so purposeful.

            “Because I do not wish to discuss this matter with you, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            “So you’re not okay then,” Tom says flatly.  “You can talk to me, you know.  I’m not going to judge you.”

            “I do not wish to discuss this matter with you,” Cochise repeats.  “Or with anyone.  There are some things I would rather forget.”

            “Okay,” Tom says, nodding.  “We should do something to distract you, then.  I’ve got a game to show you.”

            Tom gets up and grabs two crayons, handing one to Cochise before getting back in bed.  “Come sit on the bed with me.”  He draws a tic-tac-toe board on the wall as Cochise joins him.  “One player is X and the other is O.  We take turns trying to connect three in a row.  When you do it, you’ve got to say ‘tic-tac-toe three in a row!’ like you’re really excited about it, or else it doesn’t count.”

             “This sounds like a child’s game,” Cochise says.

            “It is,” Tom says, “but I bet I can beat you at it anyway.”

            “It is very likely you will be victorious, for you have extensive practice,” Cochise says.

            Tom laughs and starts playing.  Cochise plays along as well, much to Tom’s delight. 

            Tom keeps an eye on Cochise as they play game after game.  Slowly, he seems to relax.  Or at least get frustrated with the game instead of upset about wherever.  It’s a good thing, of course, but Tom still wishes he would tell him what’s wrong.

            Part way through their twenty first game, Tom yawns loudly and Cochise sets his crayon down.

            “I believe you require more rest,” Cochise says.

            “I’m okay,” Tom says.

            “You may still be recovering from your illness,” Cochise says.  “You should rest.”

            “Maybe you should too,” Tom says.  “I mean, you were pretty upset earlier and sometimes napping helps.”

            “I do not require rest at this time; I slept yesterday,” Cochise says.

            “You don’t have to be tired to nap,” Tom says.  “Just trust me.”

            “I will experiment with napping for I do trust you,” Cochise says.

            Tom slides off the bed.  “I’ll take the floor.”

            “Please, it is your bed,” Cochise says, pulling Tom gently back up towards the bed. 

            “But from the sounds of it, it’s your first nap,” Tom says.  “Take the bed.”

            “Are you still amenable to sharing?” Cochise asks.

            Tom blinks in surprise.  “Are you sure?  You got mad last time I suggested it.”

            “I am certain,” Cochise says, “but only if it is something you still wish to do.”

            “Yeah, of course,” Tom says, laying down.

            Cochise lays down beside him.  There’s a few inches of space between them, and Tom can hear the even sound of his breathing.  It’s a comforting sound- it’s surprisingly comforting to be so close to someone else- and Tom finds it bizarrely easy to fall asleep this time around. 


	18. An Awakening/A Brunch

            Tom wakes up slowly, confused as he hears something other than the engine and Cochise’s breathing.  His confusion deepens when he realizes that he’s not laying on his pillow and his arms are wrapped around something. 

            He opens his eyes and realizes that he’s cuddled up to Cochise during their naps.  The noise he’s hearing is the Volm equivalent of a heartbeat and he’s using Cochise’s chest as his pillow.  It’s surprisingly comfortable; Cochise is so warm and the gentle rise and fall of his chest is soothing.

            Tom lingers for a few extra minutes; he’s pretty sure that Cochise and his non-tactile Volmness aren’t ever going to share a bed with him again.  He can’t blame him. 

            While he’s lingering, he’s also having kind of a freak out.  He had always assumed that he’s a totally 100% straight guy.  But most of what he’s feeling towards Cochise aren’t the kind of things that he would be thinking if that was the case.  Or does it not count because Cochise doesn’t really have a gender and is an alien?  Or _does_ he have a gender since he said he would prefer to be grouped with Tom? 

            Like, sure, Cochise is an alien, and it’s not totally unheard of for Tom to be attracted to aliens.  But those are like, Star Trek aliens that are basically human women with green skin and outfits that leave very little to the imagination.

            Cochise is not basically a human woman with green skin and an outfit that leaves very little to the imagination.  And even if his outfit did leave very little to the imagination, Tom is pretty sure it wouldn’t reveal boobs.

            Nevertheless, when Tom thinks about Cochise, well… Tom tries not to think about it too much, considering how close he is to Cochise.  Would Cochise even recognize a boner?

            “Are you alright, Tom?” Cochise’s voice is surprisingly soft.  “I can feel your heart beating faster.”

            Busted, but at least not boner busted.

            Tom scoots away and sits up.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  Uh, sorry for cuddling with you while you were asleep.  I was also asleep.  You know.  Like you do when you’re napping.” 

            When did his brain get so useless?

            “I did not sleep.  You very quickly began to ‘cuddle’ with me and I was incapable of falling asleep afterwards,” Cochise says.

            “Ah man, I’m sorry,” Tom says, blushing.  “You should have just shoved me off.”

            “I did not wish to disturb you.  You were enjoying your nap and your sleep was necessary,” Cochise says.  “My sleep was not.”

            “That’s nice of you,” Tom says, swallowing hard.  “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

            “It was much more pleasant than when you were sick,” Cochise says.  “Then, you were most distressed.  You seemed to enjoy it this time.”

            Tom just shrugs at him, not wanting to say anything.

            “Do not worry, Tom,” Cochise says.  “As long as you were alright, I do not mind.”

            “I’m going to take a shower,” Tom says, getting up without looking at Cochise. 

            Tom takes a long, cold shower and tries to put everything out of his mind.  It doesn’t actually matter whether or not he has _feelings_ or whatever for Cochise.  He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t like the idea of any kind of relationship between Volm and the aliens they keep. 

            By the time he gets out of the shower, Cochise has already left for his duty station.  It’s probably a good thing, considering how amped up Tom is feeling.  Until he realizes that he doesn’t have anything for breakfast.  Still worth it.

            Then there is a knock at the door.

            “Uh, come in?” Tom says, confused as the door opens.  

            “Hello, Tom.”

            “Chal!” Tom says, jumping out of bed.  “How are you?”

            “I have been tasked with feeding you once again,” Chal says, “but I was instructed to double check the food choice with you first since you have been ill and Chichauk fears a relapse.”

            “Can we go down to the cafeteria?  Please?” Tom asks.  For the first time since he’s been in Cochise’s room, it feels small.

            “It is not my duty to take you out, simply to provide you with nutrition,” Chal says.

            “But you could!  Cochise has taken me out before,” Tom pleads. 

            “You must not linger.  I do have other duties apart from caring for Chichauk’s human pet,” Chal says.

            “Deal!” Tom says. 

            Tom follows Chal down to the cafeteria and gets food he knows is safe before settling at a table with Chal, who isn’t eating.

            “I was displeased to hear of your illness,” Chal says.  “It is good you are well again.”

            “It was pretty rough,” Tom says, feeling kind of touched.  He didn’t think that Cochise would tell anyone, or that anyone would particularly care, “but I’m all better, thanks to Cochise and whatever medicine your Volm doctors have.”

            “You received treatment from our doctor?” Chal asks.

            “Yeah, Cochise took me after I started getting scary feverish,” Tom says.

            They make some kind of noise that Tom can’t identify. 

            “What?” Tom asks.

            “It is nothing,” Chal says after a little bit. 

            Tom narrows his eyes.  “What is it?”

            “Does Chichauk continue to treat you well?” Chal asks.

            “What?  Of course,” Tom says, trying to keep in mind that Chal thinks they’re sleeping together.  “He always treats me well.”

            “That is good,” Chal says. 

            “Why?” Tom asks.

            Chal takes a minute before answering.  “Some Volm tire of their pets, particularly when they become high maintenance.” 

            “Oh, uh,” Tom says, struggling to find an answer to that that won’t give them away.  “I don’t think that’ll happen with Cochise.  He’s always super caring and tender and stuff.” 

It’s true enough.  And if Cochise did have sex with him, Tom is pretty sure he’d be caring and tender.  Not that Tom has thought about it _that_ much.

            “I must return you to your room,” Chal says, getting up abruptly. 

            “Okay,” Tom says, following along. 

            “It has been a pleasant time conversing with you,” Chal says when they’ve reached their room again.

            Tom always gets the distinct impression that Chal is annoyed as hell with him, but alright.  “You too,” Tom says sincerely.  “You should come by sometime, hang out.”

            “Volm do not ‘hang out’ with their superiors,” Chal says.  “It would be improper.”

            “Like you could get in trouble?” Tom asks.

            “It is possible, if it happened too often,” Chal says.  They sigh.  “I am certain that Cochise will require that I feed you again, however.”

            “The prospect of not being fed has never been so appealing,” Tom says, snorting. 

            Chal frowns at him again.  “I will see you, eventually.”

            “Bye, Chal,” Tom says as the door slides shut. 

Now he’s just got to figure out how to deal with Cochise when he comes back.  It’s been a while since he’s had a legit crush on someone, but he’s never handled them particularly smoothly.


	19. An Age/A Crush

            “Did you enjoy Chal’s visit?” Cochise asks during lunch. 

            Tom’s staring carefully at his food as he eats.  “Yeah, it was good to see them again.  I, uh, asked them if they wanted to come and hang out, but they said they could get in trouble.”

            “It is against regulations.  They are my subordinate,” Cochise says.  “But they were worried when you were sick and you seemed… uncomfortable this morning so I hoped they would lift your spirits.”

            “I wasn’t,” Tom sighs.  “Not _uncomfortable_.”

            “You were not not uncomfortable?” Cochise asks.  “Does that not mean uncomfortable?”

            Tom just shakes his head.  “Do you ever have, like, a revelation?  Where you’ve known something for a while and it finally clicks?”

            “No,” Cochise says.  “We do not have revelations, except, perhaps, in battle.”

            “But have you?” Tom asks.  Sometimes when Cochise talks about ‘we,’ he’s hiding his own feelings.

            Cochise looks hard at him.  “Yes, I have.  It is immaterial, however.”

            “Why?” Tom asks, tilting his head.

            “Because I still have my value system,” Cochise says.  “And what of your revelation?  Is it unhappiness living here?”

            “No,” Tom says.  He shakes his head. 

            “That is a relief,” Cochise says.  “I would be disappointed with myself if you were unhappy.”

            Tom shakes his head awkwardly again.  “You don’t have to worry about that.  About me being unhappy here.  I’m happier than I’ve ever been.  I like you more the more I get to know you.”

            “I feel similarly,” Cochise says.  “I have met many creatures in the galaxy and you are the most extraordinary.”

            Tom feels his stomach wobble and his face blush and, wow, he wishes he had never had his revelation because having a crush on your alien keeper is not the easiest thing ever, especially not when he talks like a romance novel crossed with a scifi show. 

            “Are you okay?” Cochise asks, reaching out and pressing his hand against Tom’s cheek.  “Have you become feverish again?”

            Tom swallows hard, tries to resist the urge to press his cheek further into Cochise’s palm.  “I’m fine.”

            “Are you certain, Tom?  Your heartbeat has accelerated as well.”

            Tom laughs a little, mostly to keep from freaking out.  Cochise’s hand is so warm and so large and Tom wonders what it would feel like if both of them cupped his face.  “I’m sure.”

            “If you are certain,” Cochise says, withdrawing his hand.  “I simply do not wish for you to sicken again.”

            “You and me both,” Tom says.  He misses the warmth already.  “But as long as I stick to food we know is safe and I don’t do anything stupid, I should be alright.”

            “You have seemed quite intelligent thus far,” Cochise says, “so I do not fear for your safety in that regard.”

            Tom snorts.  “I’m an eighteen year old guy.  I’m pretty dumb.”

            “You are eighteen years old?” Cochise asks.

            “Maybe nineteen.  My birthday was some time around now, I think, but I haven’t kept track of human days.  So it could have passed.”  Something in the way Cochise is looking at him makes him suspicious.  “How old are you?”

            “I am twelve years old,” Cochise says. 

            Woah.  “How old were you when you started your training?”

            “Two,” Cochise says.  “We train until we are ten and then we receive our first assignments.”

            “Damn,” Tom says, whistling low.  “I could, like, put together two words by the time I was two.  Maybe.  Walk around some.  And you were what?  Learning how to become a fierce warrior?”

            “We learn that many species develop at different rates,” Cochise explains.  “For example, Volm do not begin talking until we are four or five.”

            “So you learn to fight before you can even talk to your instructors?” Tom asks softly.  There’s something about that that makes him uneasy. 

            “We communicate through a sign language,” Cochise says.  “And we do not use live weapons, but the weaponry that you used.”

            That’s good, Tom supposes.  “So then is your lifespan shorter than the human lifespan?  Like, seventy or eighty years?” 

            “Volm do not die of natural causes,” Cochise says.  “We die in battle.”

            “All of you?” Tom asks, frowning and trying to control the fear he’s feeling.

            “Except for those that raise our young.  They live much longer lives,” Cochise says. 

            “Any way you could get one of those gigs?” Tom asks, trying to sound light.

            “I am a warrior of the Volm,” Cochise says.

            Tom sighs hard.  “I know.”

            “You disapprove?” Cochise asks.

            Tom looks up at him properly.  “I just want you to be safe is all.  I care about you a lot, so the thought of you going into battle, of dying younger than you should, is kind of upsetting.”

            “I will not die younger than I should; I will die when it is my time, in service to my people,” Cochise says. 

            “I’d rather you die of old age,” Tom says. 

            “That is not our way, not while we fight.”  Cochise softens and places a hand on his arm.  “I will not die for quite some time.  It is not something that should worry you.” 

            “Of course it’s going to worry me,” Tom says.  “It’s you dying.  Young.”

            “We are far from the frontlines, and I am not entering combat any time soon,” Cochise says.

            Tom nods a little and goes back to looking at his food as he eats.  “That’s good.” 

            “Something else is bothering you today,” Cochise observes.

            “Just… the revelation,” Tom says, which sounds pretty dramatic.

            “Do you wish to discuss it?” Cochise asks.

            “I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” Tom says. 

            “You may be open with me,” Cochise says, squeezing his arm gently.

            “It’s a human thing,” Tom says, looking back over at him.  He doesn’t want to make Cochise uncomfortable with his dumb human emotions.

            “You have explained many human things to me,” Cochise points out.  “I would have you explain this human thing to me as well.”

            “Can we not talk about it?  Please?”

            Cochise inclines his head.  “Of course.” 

            “Do you guys get married?  Or, like, date each other?” Tom asks.  Wow, way to avoid the subject. 

            “We find broodmates with whom we are biologically compatible and, if possible, whose company we enjoy,” Cochise says. 

            “So no Volm romance novels, huh?” Tom asks, heart sinking.

            “Romance is not necessary,” Cochise says.  “There are some pairs of broodmates whom participate in such things, but it is discouraged.”

            Tom presses his lips together.  “What about you?  What do you think?”

            Cochise makes a whistling noise and clicks his tongue, removing his hand from Tom’s arm.  “I wish we lived in a situation where romance and close personal bonds were encouraged, but I understand why we handle matters in this way.  It is difficult to send anyone to die; it is harder to send those for whom you have great affection.”

            Tom swallows hard.  “But couldn’t it give you a motivation?  A motivation to keep fighting?”

            “We already have sufficient motivation: the survival of our species.  Eradication of the Espheni,” Cochise says

            “I see,” Tom says, nodding.  Everything comes back around to death and dying.

            “And in your culture?” Cochise asks.

            “People date- get to know each other, hopefully find someone they’re compatible with- and then they marry.  Commit to each other for life,” Tom says.  “Although most people have feelings for a lot of other people over the course of their life.”

            Cochise is watching him intensely.  “What do these feelings feel like?”

            Tom tries to stifle a crazed laugh.  Cochise is asking him about his feelings.  Of course he is.  “I’ve never been, you know, firmly in love.  Not reciprocated, anyway.  But I’ve had, I guess you’d call them crushes, before.”  Even if this feels so much more than that.  “It’s when you meet someone and they make things brighter.  You look forward to seeing them so much you’d burst sometimes.”

            “Will you explain this more?” Cochise asks softly.

            “Sometimes, when you get to know the person better, you get real feelings for them.  You want to know, god, everything about them.  They don’t become _everything_ , but they become so, so important to you.  You want to know what makes them tick; you want to know how it is that they’re so wonderful,” Tom looks over at him.  “You want the best for them, no matter what.  And you really want to kiss them.  So badly.”

            “That was an eloquent explanation, even if I do not know what kissing is,” Cochise says after a minute.  “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

            “You guys don’t kiss?” Tom asks.

            “No, I have never heard of such a thing,” Cochise says.

            Tom clears his throat.  “It’s when you press your lips against someone else’s.  It’s way more fun than it sounds.”

            “I will trust you,” Cochise says.  “Even if it seems unsanitary.” 

            “It probably is,” Tom says, snorting.  “You can get sick if the other person is sick too.  But it’s worth it.”

            “I would not want you to get sick,” Cochise says.

            Tom laughs and it’s tinged with bitterness.  “I don’t think I’m going to be kissing anyone anyway.”  Even though he’s never wanted to kiss anyone more.

            “It is unfortunate.  Perhaps…” Cochise says.  He gets up abruptly.  “I am going to be late for my next shift.”

            “Have a good afternoon, Cochise,” Tom says. 

            “Thank you, Tom,” Cochise says.  He reaches down and touches Tom’s shoulder.  “This has been an enlightening lunch break.”

            Tom sighs and lays back on the bed once Cochise is gone.  There is a bizarre combination of emotions flowing freely through him right now and it’s overwhelming.  He feels so sad and lonely and, man, he never knew you could actually get love _sick_.  There’s a sick stirring in his stomach and stupid tears coming out of his eyes.  Feelings are so incredibly stupid.


	20. A Worry/A Confession

            Cochise keeps quiet for the next few days.  Tom only really notices because he’s also being quieter than usual, so neither of them are filling the silence.  If he has another conversation like the one about relationships, he’ll probably just tell Cochise everything.

            But three days of near silence is too much to bear, so Tom nudges Cochise as they eat together one evening.  “Hey, are you okay?”

            Cochise inclines his head.  “My health is perfect.”

            Tom snorts.  “I mean, you’ve been pretty quiet recently.  I want to make sure something didn’t happen that upset you or something.”

            “I have been thinking a great deal,” Cochise says.

            “About what?” Tom asks. 

            “I worry about my ability to care for you properly,” Cochise says.

            Tom frowns.  “What do you mean?  Listen, Cochise, if this is about how I got sick, I promise you, the same thing could have happened back on Earth.”

            Cochise shakes his head, and then he frowns.  “It is not your sickness.”

            “Then what?” Tom asks.  He waits for an answer, but Cochise doesn’t seem inclined to talk.  “Listen, Cochise, usually I’m okay with letting you work out your own stuff, but this pretty clearly has to do with me.  Did I do something wrong?”

            “It is not you,” Cochise says. 

            “Then what is it?” Tom asks, crossing his arms.  He can’t believe he’s going to get the whole ‘it’s not you it’s me’ thing from someone he’s not even dating.

            “It is me,” Cochise says.  “Recently, I have begun having emotions out of line with my own values, and it is distressing.”

            “What kind of emotions?” Tom asks, trying to not have hope.  Sure, maybe Volm don’t generally let themselves have romantic attachments, but if there’s one thing he’s picked up, it’s that Cochise isn’t your standard Volm. 

            “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable,” Cochise says.

            “You’re not going to make me uncomfortable.  You’ve always been super clear that you aren’t going to pressure me into doing anything I don’t want to do,” Tom says.  “You can be open with me.”

            “You did not wish to reveal your revelation,” Cochise points out. 

            Tom sighs.  He has a point.  Maybe if he just blurts it out then they can move past this awkward.  “You know all the stuff I said?  About the feelings?”

            “I have thought about little else,” Cochise says. 

            Tom swallows hard.  His hands are shaking and he feels like a dumb high schooler again.  “I wasn’t talking about something I _had_ experienced.  I was talking about something I am experiencing.  Like, right now.  Like, _right_ now.”

            “I see,” Cochise says, sounding grim.

            “Can you say something else?” Tom asks after a minute of silence. 

            “Do you wish to be transferred to them?” Cochise asks, voice catching.  “I can pretend to have tired of you and give you away, if you wish.”

            “What?” Tom asks, confused.  “You wanna kick me out?”

            “I do not wish to, but if you wish to live elsewhere, I will not stop you,” Cochise says. 

            “Cochise, I want to live with you,” Tom says.

            “You do not wish to live with Chal?” Cochise asks.  “Because of your emotions for them.”

            “It’s you, Cochise,” Tom says quietly.  “You’re the one I have feelings for.”

            Cochise rests a hand on his shoulder.  “Are you certain?”

            “Yeah,” Tom says, a forced laugh coming out of him.  “I’m so sure.  You’re good and you’re tender and I always look forward to our conversations so much, which is kind of crazy because we’ve had a lot of conversations by now.  I feel like I should be tired of them, but I still want to know more.”

            Cochise makes a rumbling noise.  “I care deeply for you.  And I also have similar feelings.”

            “For me?” Tom double checks. 

            “Of course,” Cochise says.  “You have taught me much, and I admire your bravery and your intelligence.  I am still worried, however.”

            “What about?” Tom asks, the smile sliding off his face before it gets the chance to fully form.  “I like you, you like me, so I think we should go with this.”

            “You are most precious to me,” Cochise says, “but I have scorned my comrades for their relationships with aliens under their charge.  How can I now engage in a relationship with an alien that I am charged with caring for?” 

            “Because I genuinely want you to,” Tom says.  “Because I know that, should my feelings change, I can tell you and you’ll still treat me with respect, which from what you’ve said about your comrades doesn’t hold true for all of them.”

            Cochise looks down at the floor and Tom touches his shoulder gently. 

            “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.  We can take it slowly or not even start at all.  You can think about it as long as you want,” Tom says.  “I want you to feel good about this, whatever this ends up being.”

            “I enjoyed it greatly when you napped on me,” Cochise says hesitantly.  “Could we start there?” 

            Tom smiles wide.  “Yes!  I’d really like that.  There are a lot of different ways to do that, actually.” 

            Cochise tilts his head.  “What kind of ways?”

            Tom takes their plates over to the desk and comes back to bed, where Cochise has already stretched out.  Trying not to reveal his nerves, Tom gets into bed with him.

            “Spooning is one way that people sleep together,” Tom explains as he turns on his side away from Cochise.  “You just kind of press yourself against me and wrap your arms around me.”

            Cochise does what he says, and Tom can feel his breathing against the back of his neck, the wide expanse of Cochise’s torso against his back.  His arms are unsurprisingly strong; one wiggles under him to keep him super secure.  Maybe it should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t.  Tom traces his finger over Cochise’s hands.  His skin feels so leathery and almost-rough.

            “Is this acceptable?” Cochise asks.  His voice is deep and rumbling behind him; Tom can feel it as well as hear it.

            “Yeah, this is real good, Cochise,” Tom says, smiling.  “It’s called spooning.  You’re being the big spoon right now, and I’m being the small spoon.  We can always switch it up.”

            “I wish to remain the big spoon.  I am the larger person, after all,” Cochise says.

            Tom tosses a glance at him over his shoulder and grins.  “The smaller person can be the big spoon.”

            “I enjoy this position,” Cochise says, sounding contemplative.  “I enjoy the feeling of holding you.”

            Tom burrows back against Cochise just a little.  “Good.  I like this too.  You’re, uh, really strong.  I feel very secure.” 

            “That is good,” Cochise says.  “You should rest now.  It has been a long day.”

            Tom closes his eyes.  “Yes,” he sighs happily.  “This is very nice Cochise.  Thank you.”

            “Goodnight, Tom.  I hope you have a pleasant rest cycle.” 


	21. A System of Values/The Beginnings of Research

            Tom wakes up slow, feeling gooey and warm.  There are arms holding him securely, Cochise’s arms, and the conversation they had the night before comes back to him.  What a good conversation it had been.

            He turns his body, squirming around until he’s facing Cochise.  “Hey, Cochise,” he murmurs softly.  “How are you?”

            “I have wasted seven and a half hours in order to hold your unconscious form,” Cochise says.

            “I’m sorry?” Tom says.  

            “Do not apologize,” Cochise says, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Tom’s face.  “I am compiling important information.”

            “Important information?” Tom asks, raising an eyebrow. 

            “Indeed,” Cochise says.  He traces along Tom’s hairline and down along his jaw.  “Your sleep patterns are interesting; you are not still and silent as the Volm are.”

            “I hope I don’t sleep talk too badly, but at least I don’t sleepwalk!” Tom says.

            “Sleepwalking?” Cochise asks.

            “Yeah, there are people who can do pretty much everything they do awake, but they’re asleep,” Tom says.  “I’ve never done it, though.”

            “I would find it alarming, if you were to begin doing things while unconscious,” Cochise says.

            “You don’t have to worry about it,” Tom says.  “It’s not something I do.”

            “I have thought of other things as well.  I had much time to contemplate my value system,” Cochise says.

            “Does this compromise your values?” Tom asks, fearful. 

            “Not as long as you enjoy it, too,” Cochise says.  “And I believe that engaging in other activities- kissing, for example- is acceptable as well.  But only if I regularly check with you to ensure that you are comfortable with the activities we are engaging in.” 

            “That’s alright with me,” Tom says.

            “So, should we kiss now?” Cochise asks.

            Tom starts tracing along the lines and ridges on Cochise’s face as he starts talking.  “You don’t want to force it- trust me.  There’ll be a right moment, and since we’re special to each other, we should wait for it.”  Maybe it’s a dumb, romantic notion, but Tom likes it.  Cochise’s face is incredibly complex; Tom realizes that he’s never really taken the chance to examine it, certainly not this close.  It’s amazing.

            “Have you kissed many humans?”

            “I guess a regular amount.  A girl who used to make out with me behind the dumpsters- I think I told you about her before,” Tom says.  “I got drunk once or twice at parties and I probably made out with someone then.” 

            “You have a great deal more experience at kissing than I do,” Cochise says.

            “Never kissed an alien before,” Tom says.  “Just human girls.” 

            “You must inform me if you find our first kiss unsatisfactory,” Cochise says.

            Tom shakes his head a little.  “I won’t.”

            Cochise’s eyes get wide.  “But you must!”

            “I mean, I won’t find it unsatisfactory,” Tom says. 

            “You cannot know that.”

            Tom tilts his head a little bit so his lips are pressed against Cochise’s.  It’s difficult- he doesn’t have much in the way of lips, just a ridge right above the opening of his mouth- but Tom finds an angle that works.  There’s no nose to awkwardly bump against, which is nice, and Tom stops running his fingers along Cochise’s ridges in order to cup his cheek properly. 

            His body is pressed up against Cochise’s and he can feel Cochise’s hands splayed on his back.  The sheets are tangled around their legs, the bed is soft beneath him, and this is probably as close to a perfect moment as Tom is ever going to have. 

            “That was my favorite kiss.  Ever,” Tom murmurs once they’ve pulled apart.

            “Are you flattering me?”

            “No way,” Tom says.  The grin stretching across his face is almost painful in its intensity.

            “I now understand why the Volm do not kiss,” Cochise says.

            Tom pulls his hand away from Cochise.  “You didn’t like it?”

            “The opposite.  There is little else that I wish to engage in right now,” Cochise says.  “But I must get our breakfast if we are to eat together.”

            Tom grins and kisses Cochise’s cheek quickly.  “You have to go to work?”

            “Yes, I must,” Cochise says, sitting up and climbing over Tom to get out of bed.

            Tom pulls the covers up, watches Cochise get presentable.  He can’t help but smile at the sight.  Talking it out worked so well.  He’s never had a better night’s sleep nor a better wake up.

            “I will return shortly,” Cochise says. 

            Tom sits up and waits, not altogether patiently, for Cochise’s return.  It never takes him long to get food, especially since Tom no longer tries new food, but it still feels long. 

            His heart is beating so fast; it barely seems believable that he’s not only made friends with Cochise, but started some kind of relationship with him too.

            He’s almost expecting it to be a wild, fantastic dream, but when Cochise comes back, he sits right beside him on the bed and watches him intensely.  Tom leans forward and kisses Cochise’s cheek, just because he can.

            “Thanks, Cochise,” Tom says.

            “Are these small kisses a way to show affection?”

            “Yeah,” Tom says.  “You can kiss someone’s cheek, or their forehead, or the tip of their nose.  Or, really, any part of their body, depending on the circumstances.  They all have subtly different meanings.”

            “This is more complex than I expected,” Cochise says.

            “We can talk it through, figure it out,” Tom says.  “As long as you still want to.”

            “Of course.  I simply meant to comment on the fact that, if we were both Volm, we would determine our biological compatibility, and then we would engage in sexual intercourse until we had produced an egg.  With our close relationship, we would request to be stationed together and work to produce more eggs.  I am not certain if I will be a suitable companion in this more complicated relationship.”

            “I’ve never had a relationship before either, at least not one like this,” Tom assures him.  “But that’s the nice thing about these relationships; it’ll be whatever we want it to be.  I just want you to be happy with this.” 

            “This is most reassuring,” Cochise says.

            “Good,” Tom says.  The thought of entering his first relationship should probably be stressful, but being far, far away from the judgmental forces on Earth is so freeing.  When he said they could be whatever they wanted, it was _true_.

            “I must go to my duty station, but I look forward to returning,” Cochise says.  He bends down and kisses Tom’s cheek gently.  “Was that an acceptable kiss?”

            “Yeah,” Tom says, getting up to walk him the short distance to the door.  He gets up on his tiptoes, loops his arms around Cochise’s neck, and kisses him again, this time on the mouth.  “That one’s good too.”

            Cochise makes a noise that almost like a groan.  “You are most enticing.”

            “Yeah?” Tom asks, looking up at him and trying to look innocent.  “So you should totally stay here.”

            “I cannot, but I will return at lunch with food and with the hopes of receiving more kisses,” Cochise says.

            “Your chances are pretty good,” Tom says, winking at him.  “Have a good day.”

            “And you as well,” Cochise says, inclining his head before leaving. 

            Tom smiles to himself as he goes about his morning, taking a long warm shower.  When he’s done, he stands in the middle of their main room and spins around, not quite sure what he wants to do next. 

            Then it dawns on him: he really, really needs to do some research.  On Volm anatomy.  He grabs his datapad and gets to work.


	22. A Note on Anatomy/The Beard

“Okay, what gives?” Tom asks when Cochise comes back for lunch.  He’s been searching for hours.

Cochise frowns at him.  “Have I upset you somehow?”

Tom waves this datapad.  “I thought this was supposed to be full of information on the Volm.”  Nope.

“It is,” Cochise says, handing him his lunch and sitting beside him.  “You have used it to look up much information about our history.”

“But there’s not much else on there,” Tom says. 

“There is information on our old literature, our homeworld-“

“But not on _you_ ,” Tom says. 

“On me?” Cochise asks.

“On your anatomy,” Tom says, blushing a little.  No guide to sex up your Volmy sex life. 

“We do not believe it is wise to give our pets detailed information on our anatomy,” Cochise says.

“What?  Are you worried we’re gonna try to overthrow you?” Tom asks.

“It has been a concern,” Cochise says.

“You can’t think I’m going to assassinate you,” Tom says.  “I’d never even think about it.”

“I do not, but some Volm have worried of such things,” Cochise says.  “Why were you looking for information on Volm anatomy?”

Tom blushes and shrugs a little.  “Well, we’re getting physical, and if we go further, I want to be able to make you feel good.”  After all, Cochise has been with other Volm before, and they probably made him feel good.  He wants to be able to make him feel good, too.

Cochise inclines his head.  “I do not require that you do additional research.”

“I knew you wouldn’t, but I want to,” Tom says.  “I mean, I know that we’re going slow and everything, but I’d rather be prepared.”

“Volm are not taught to worry about their own pleasure,” Cochise says.

Tom sighs and rolls his eyes.  If there are other Volm with aliens that they keep as pets, then Tom’s sure they’re worrying about their own pleasure.  But Tom doesn’t want to compare Cochise to them because he’s not them.  “Then let me worry about it.  Whatever we do- whether it’s sex or heavy petting or just making out- I want you to get pleasure out of it.  Plus, I don’t know anything about what your genitalia looks like.  Like, it’s not the most important thing, but that’s probably a good thing to know before you maybe have sex with someone.”

There could be logistical issues, depending on what Volm private parts are like.

“I can show you my genitalia, if you wish,” Cochise says. 

Tom blushes.  “I meant in general.  Like, most humans have one of two different sets of genitalia, but since you’re an alien, I figure yours is probably different, right?”

“I do not know what your genitalia looks like, so I cannot tell you,” Cochise says. 

            “That’s a fair point,” Tom says. 

            “Do you wish to see my genitalia?  Or would that make you uncomfortable?” Cochise asks.

            “Maybe in a little bit,” Tom says, swallowing hard.  “This is still pretty new.”

            “Is there a certain amount of time you must know someone before viewing their genitalia?” Cochise asks.

            “You don’t usually see most people’s junk,” Tom says.  “Usually we keep it to ourselves.”

            “We do not have such norms.  We share rooms as young hatchlings, and lower ranking Volm share rooms as well,” Cochise says.  “There is no point in hiding, as our genitalia is all similar.”

            Tom shudders a little.  “Sounds like showering in gym class, but worse because it’s all the time.”

            “There is nothing to be ashamed of,” Cochise says, “but I will wait patiently to see your genitalia.  If you wish, I could ask Chal to take a picture of their genitalia for you, so you do not see mine yet.  I am certain they would not mind if I explained the situation and your human customs.”

            “No!  They’re my friend,” Tom says, shaking his head.  “We wouldn’t generally ever see each other’s genitals, at least not back home.” 

            “When you wish to see my genitalia, just inform me and I will show you,” Cochise says.  “And I would like to see yours when you are ready, preferably before we engage in intercourse.”

            “Really?”

            “Your genitalia is new to me as well,” Cochise points out.  “And we may have compatibility issues that will take time to work out.”

            “Can we just kiss for now?” Tom asks.  “I don’t know if I wanna do sex stuff yet.”

            “Of course,” Cochise says.  “Only activities that you are comfortable with, remember?”

            Tom finishes eating quickly so he can start kissing Cochise again.  He slides into Cochise’s lap and wraps his arms around Cochise’s neck.

            “May we kiss now?” Cochise asks. 

            Tom presses his lips carefully to the small stretch of skin between Cochise’s nose holes.  “Yes, of course.”

            Cochise groans and pulls his head back.  “That is a very sensitive area.”

            “Do you like it when I kiss you there?” Tom asks, curious.

            “It is very pleasurable and I would enjoy it if you kissed or touched me there again,” Cochise says, voice strained.  “But you should be aware that it is an overtly sexual pleasure.  You said you did not wish to engage in sexual actions yet.”

            “Oh…” Tom says.  “I’ll remember that, for later.”

            But that doesn’t mean that Tom doesn’t want to kiss Cochise.  He presses his lips against Cochise’s cheek and then his lips, enjoying the sensation of Cochise’s lips against his.  Cochise rests his hands on Tom’s shoulders, holding him firmly in place. 

            He lets Cochise determine how hard to kiss him and how to move against him, yielding pretty much completely.  Tom finds out that Cochise is tender and gentle, which doesn’t surprise him at all.  The movements are slightly hesitant, but Cochise is clearly gaining confidence. 

            “You’re a quick learner,” Tom says breathlessly when they pull apart.  “God, you’re a quick learner, Cochise.”

            “I did excel in my education,” Cochise says.  He pauses and then looks at him like he’s worried that Tom is going to mock him for whatever he’s about to say.  His voice takes a deeper tone.  “And I am hoping to excel in this education as well.  My education in how to pleasure a human, if you would teach me.” 

            Tom smiles.  “Was that some kind of pick up line?”

            “I have read some of your Earth literature.  It was not meant to pressure you, simply to make you feel more comfortable,” Cochise says.

            “I couldn’t be more comfortable than right here in your lap,” Tom says, kissing his cheek.  “But that was very sweet.”

            “It was a poor attempt, but I will attempt to become better,” Cochise says.

            “I liked it,” Tom says, tracing the ridges on Cochise’s cheek again.  “It was you.”

            Cochise strokes his cheek in return.  “Are you calling me a poor attempt?”

            “Of course not,” Tom says.  “I like you, a lot.”

            “I like you as well,” Cochise says. 

He shifts and brushes his cheek against Tom’s.  This is new and different, but Tom likes it.  Kind of like a cat.

“Is this a Volm thing?” Tom asks. 

“No,” Cochise says.  “I simply enjoy the feeling of your facial hair against my skin.”

Tom rubs his face, feeling the haphazard facial hair.  The curses of only being a teenager.  “It’s getting long.  I need to shave.”

“Is it truly a necessity?” Cochise asks. 

“I’ve got to look pretty scruffy these days.  Not that I can tell, since you guys don’t seem to have mirrors,” Tom says.

“Our physical appearance is not important,” Cochise says.  “I can create a mirror for you, however, if it would please you.” 

“It’s probably better that I don’t see myself,” Tom says, “especially if I’m gonna keep the beard.  It’s probably not a good look.”

“I believe it is an aesthetically pleasing feature,” Cochise says.  He brushes the back of his hand against Tom’s cheek. 

“So I’ll keep it,” Tom says.

“You do not have to do it for me,” Cochise says.

Tom shrugs.  “But I don’t really mind either way, so I might as well keep it if you like it.  Especially if you’re going to keep playing with it like that.” 

“I will most certainly continue to play with it,” Cochise says. 

“Then I’ll keep it because this feels so good,” Tom says, leaning against Cochise’s hand. 

“I find your fur very…” Cochise struggles to find the word.  “It is a tactilely enjoyable experience to touch.”

“Just wait,” Tom murmurs, eyes half shut in pleasure as Cochise’s other hand combs through his long hair.  “I have more.”

“I will wait patiently,” Cochise says. 

Tom comes to a decision then.  Cochise isn’t going to have to wait that long.  After all, there’s nobody that Tom has ever been more comfortable with and he’s been everything and more than Tom could have ever hoped for in a… lover?  Yeah, in a lover.  That’s the closest word that Tom can come up with, even if it does give him mental images of steamy and illicit affairs that are so far away from what they’re doing together. 

So Tom wants to try this next step or whatever with Cochise, or at least start taking steps towards it.  Considering the care Cochise has shown so far (and his fascination with his body hair), there’s not too much that could go wrong from getting naked.  Yeah, sure, there are a few concerns, but they’re not _that_ pressing.

Plus, he is super curious about what Cochise looks like naked.  He knows that Cochise would never demand reciprocation, but Cochise has got to be curious about what he looks like naked, too, so it only seems fair.

Tom settles it.  They’re going to compare genitalia, soon.


	23. The Bellybutton/The Alien

            It takes Tom a few days before he’s ready to bare it all for Cochise.  Maybe it’s kind of weird to be insecure about his body when dealing with an alien, but all of the Volm that Tom has seen look pretty lean and muscular.  Tom is not, especially after however long he’s spent living with Cochise.

            He’s not as active as he used to be, even if he does try to exercise, and Tom’s put on some weight.  Tom has definitely noticed that he has a little tummy now, lost some muscle mass, and he was never the most muscular person in the first place. 

            But considering how Cochise has pointed out several times how physically superior his species is in general (and backed it up), Tom’s pretty sure his hopes aren’t too high as far as physical condition. 

            So Tom fiddles nervously with the hem of his shirt while he watches Cochise draw a spaceship, sitting on the floor and working intently.  He doesn’t know how best to say that he’s ready to get naked, even if he’s not necessarily ready to get sexual.  Just blurt it out?

            “Cochise?” Tom says hesitantly. 

            “Yes, Tom?” Cochise asks, looking up from his drawing.

            “Uh, you said that you’d like to see me naked?” Tom says. 

            “I would, when you are comfortable.” 

            “I’m ready.  I don’t know if I’m ready to, like, have sex or anything even close, but I’m ready for seeing, at least.”

            Cochise perks up and sets his crayon down.  “Are you certain?”

            Tom swallows hard and nods.  “Yeah.”

            Cochise comes and sits next to him on the bed.  He looks at him.  “You appear nervous.”

            “It’s pretty normal, I think, when you’re about to get naked for the first time,” Tom says.

            “I am certain you have been naked many times.  How else would you shower?” Cochise says.

            Tom smiles despite himself.  He loves Cochise.  It’s a realization that should be startling, but it’s so obvious that it washes right over him.  “I mean in front of someone new for the first time.” 

            “You do not have to worry, Tom.  I will do I can to ensure you enjoy yourself,” Cochise says.  He rests his hand on Tom’s shoulder and rubs gently.  “You will be a stunning sight, I am certain.”

            Tom blushes and looks up at Cochise.  He looks so kind and eager that it floods Tom with a confidence he didn’t think he would ever feel.

            The first thing he does is pull his shirt of, trying to do it in a semi seductive looking way.  He looks up to Cochise for a reaction and is surprised to see the intense look on his face. 

            “You have more body hair!” Cochise says, looking and sounding absolutely delighted. 

            “Told you,” Tom says, smiling.  He grabs ahold of Cochise’s wrist and sets his hand on his chest.  “You can touch, if you want.”

            Cochise runs his hand up and down Tom’s sternum, clearly enjoying himself.  Tom is enjoying it, too.  His fingers are so long and they make Tom shiver as they stroke him.  They start to drift a little lower, across Tom’s belly.

            “You are even softer than I thought you would be,” Cochise says quietly.

            “Is that bad?” Tom asks.  Maybe his little belly is bad after all.

            “No,” Cochise murmurs.  He leans over and presses his lips to Tom’s cheek as he keeps stroking along his torso.  “This is most enjoyable so far.”

            “It is,” Tom says. 

            “Oh!” Cochise says as his fingers find his belly button.  “What is this?”

            “It’s my belly button,” Tom says, giggling because that tickles.

            “What is its purpose?”  Cochise asks, tracing his fingers along the edge of it.

            “It’s part of fetal development.  We’re attached to our moms so they can feed us before we’re born.  There’s more to it than that, but that’s the gist of it,” Tom says.

            “And all members of your species have a belly button?”  Cochise asks as his finger dips inside.

            Tom squirms at the sensation and nods.  “Yeah.  So, wait, you guys don’t have belly buttons?”

            “They are not necessary,” Cochise says.

            “I’ve never met anyone without a belly button before,” Tom says.  “Would you feel comfortable with me seeing your not-belly button?”

            “You wish to see something that I do not have?”

            “Yeah, if that’s alright with you,” Tom says.

            “You are quite unusual sometimes; I enjoy never knowing what to expect,” Cochise says.

            Cochise runs his hands down Tom’s body once more and then pulls back.  He slowly peels off the outer layer of clothing before taking off his shirt.

            “Wow,” Tom says softly.  Okay, maybe his first priority isn’t going to be his not-belly button.

            Cochise nods at him when Tom reaches his hand forward, so Tom presses his hand against Cochise’s skin.  It’s as lined and fascinating as his face is and Tom traces along, fascinated.  It looks so intricate.  He wants to feel all of the bumps and ridges under his fingers, and the firm muscle underneath. 

            “You’re hot,” Tom says frankly. 

            “My temperature is normal,” Cochise says. 

            “I mean, like, you’re really attractive,” Tom says.

            “Oh, thank you,” Cochise says, sounding surprised.

            Tom trails his fingers down Cochise’s chest until he reaches where his belly button would be, if he was human.  It’s just as ridged as the rest of him. 

            “Nope, no belly button,” Tom says quietly.

            “It should not be a surprise,” Cochise says.  “I informed you.”

            “I know, I know,” Tom says, stroking the spot.  Sometimes he forgets that Cochise is an alien, but this is very alien.  He’s a precariously placed human on a spaceship, in a relationship with a space alien.  Oh, wow. 

            “Are you alright?” Cochise asks.

            “Just thinking,” Tom says. 

“About what?”

“You’re an alien,” Tom says.

Cochise frowns and cups his chin, easing his face upwards and forcing them to make eye contact.  Tom has the distinct feeling that he’s being deeply examined. 

“Are you alright?  I find this gap in your memory concerning,” Cochise says softly.

“It’s just that sometimes I forget that you’re an alien.  I know it seems stupid, but usually, it just feels like you and I are the only people exist because I’m in here all the time.  So you’re just Cochise, you know?  Not Cochise-the-alien,” Tom says.  “But then I find out you don’t have a belly button and it kind of hits me all of a sudden.”

Cochise makes a humming noise.  “I cannot say that I understand, as I am not in your position, but it sounds alarming.  Do you wish to slow down?  I can put my shirt back on and bring you something to drink.”

“I think I’m good with where we are right now,” Tom says, tracing around again.  So intricate.  So alien.

“Then I will continue exploring the top half of your body, if that is acceptable,” Cochise says.  “You welcome to touch me however you see fit.”

“You are too,” Tom says.  

Before Cochise can actually touch him again, Tom scoots around behind him, curious about his back.  It almost looks scaly or something.  The ridges are more uniform, almost like some kind of exoskeleton.  When Tom touches it, it’s harder, more slippery than most of the rest of his skin. 

Tom runs his hands along Cochise’s shoulders, down his spine.  He leans forward and presses a kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“I cannot feel that,” Cochise says.  “I do not mind if you explore, but I believed you would wish to know.”

“So, is this protection?” Tom says, still touching. 

“Yes,” Cochise says.  “They are capable of withstanding a great deal.  You may test that, if you wish.”

“That’s okay,” Tom says.  Yeah, the chances that he could even kind of hurt Cochise is slim, but Tom would never want to risk that.  “This is so cool, though.”

“Do you not have protection on your back?” Cochise asks.

Tom scoots back around so he’s sitting in front of Cochise, back to him.  He shivers as Cochise touches him, feather light as his breath. 

“Is this your spine?” Cochise asks a minute later, his finger trailing down each vertebra one by one.

“Yes,” Tom says. 

“That is…” Cochise sighs.  “It is alarming how fragile you are.  It would be easy to grab your spine with my bare hands and do you severe injury.”

Tom turns to look at him, smiles reassuringly.  “You’re not going to do that, though.”

“But someone else could,” Cochise says.   

“I don’t think anyone is going to,” Tom says.

“You cannot know that,” Cochise says.  “The galaxy is a dangerous place.”

Tom turns all the way around so they’re face to face again.  “I barely leave this room, Cochise.  I’ve talked to two people in the months I’ve been here.  And, trust me, humans are more resilient than you think.  We can take a lot.  It’s how we became the dominant species on our planet.”

“I did not mean to offend you; I apologize,” Cochise says.  “You are incredibly strong, which is something I admire about you.”

“I’m not offended,” Tom says.  “I just don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I simply wish you had more natural defenses,” Cochise says. 

“We get by,” Tom says, touching his chest.  “Besides, I’m not the one who is going to go fight one day.  I’d be more concerned about you, even if I was you.”

            “This conversation has taken an unhappy turn.  I apologize for this,” Cochise says. 

            “It’s okay,” Tom says.  “It’s sweet.”

            “I would rather continue exploring your torso,” Cochise says.

            “Go right ahead,” Tom says.

            Cochise touches the hollow of his throat.  “What function does this serve?”

            Tom shrugs.  “It’s just part of my body.  I don’t know why everything is the way it is, sorry.  I’m a wannabe historian, not a wannabe doctor.  I don’t even know if everything has a purpose or not.  Sometimes things just are.” 

            “That is most wise,” Cochise says. 

            Tom frowns a little, but lets it go.  He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly smart recently. 

            They spend the rest of the evening stroking and touching each other.  Tom is marveling at the closeness he feels with Cochise.  He had never figured that he could feel so close to someone, especially not just lying in silence with them and touching gently.  It’s incredible, like nothing he had ever experienced. 

            “I care about you deeply and I am enjoying this evening immensely,” Cochise says quietly.  “Perhaps it is obvious, but I wish to ensure you are aware anyway.”

            Tom nods and presses his lips to Cochise’s sternum.  “It’s obvious, don’t worry.  And I care about you, too.”


	24. The Percentile/A Series of Feelings

“How are you feeling?” Cochise asks when Tom wakes up.  “Do you remain aware that I am an alien?”

            Tom snorts and nods.  “Don’t worry.  No alien panicking from me.”  He kisses Cochise’s bare chest.

            “That is good,” Cochise says.  “You appeared to have slept well.”

            “I did,” Tom says.  “Turns out you’re even more comfortable without your shirt on.”  The intimacy of skin on skin.

            “Noted,” Cochise says.  He reaches forward and traces Tom’s face.  “Your face has been altered.”

            Tom frowns and reaches up to touch his face, briefly concerned.  “Oh!  It’s from your ridges.  They left an imprint on my skin.  It’s no biggie.  It’ll fade quick.”

            “Fascinating,” Cochise says, continuing to trace along his face. 

            “Just another little human thing,” Tom murmurs.

            “I enjoy your little human things,” Cochise says.

            Tom stands up and shimmies out of his pants in one smooth motion before he can think too much about it.  He does want Cochise to see him and he knows that Cochise wants to see him right back.  But it’s still best if he doesn’t think too much about it.  Showing off another (hopefully not so little) human thing.

            Cochise immediately sits up to watch.  Yeah, that’s why he can’t think too much about it.  Because nobody he’s ever met has a gaze like Cochise’s and Tom can feel it on him as he turns around to show himself off. 

            “Is it correct to assume either that protrusion or that hole is your genitalia and the other is your waste disposal system?” Cochise asks. 

            “They’re both part of my ‘waste disposal system,’ but yeah, this,” Tom points at his penis, “is my genitalia.  This is my penis.”  He wonders if getting naked for the first time always feels so unsexy.  It doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just not sexy, but it could be because they’re also basically talking about pooping while they do it.  Not a turn on.

            Cochise opens and closes his mouth.  “I believe I now understand what you were feeling yesterday.” 

            “What do you mean?” Tom asks, feeling deflated.  This is not the reaction a guy wants the first time he shows off his dick.  “It gets bigger, I promise.”

            “Your genitalia is also part of your waste disposal system?” Cochise asks in disbelief.  “You engage in intercourse with the same body parts with which you eliminate waste?”

            “Uh, kind of?  I mean, I pee out of there and it’s also part of how to have sex,” Tom says, fumbling with his words.  “Although I guess some people also have sex in the butt, even if it’s not genitalia, so, you know, that can be part of sex too.”

            “Is that not highly unsanitary?” Cochise says.

            Tom shrugs.  “We wash ourselves.”

            Cochise doesn’t look impressed.  “That cannot be sanitary.”

            “You guys don’t do oral sex, do you?” Tom asks. 

            Cochise tilts his head in the way that always means ‘what are you talking about.’

            “Pleasuring your partner with your mouth,” Tom explains.  “Putting your mouth on their genitalia.”

            “We most certainly do not.  That cannot produce an egg,” Cochise says.  “And in your case, it seems as if it would be very unhealthy.  What if you end up with waste in your mouth?”

            “Then your partner sucks, I think.  You shouldn’t pee in other people’s mouths,” Tom says, shuddering.  “I don’t think it happens that much.”

            Cochise just makes a tutting noise. 

            “Look, you don’t have to do anything you think is gross- this is a two way street,” Tom says.  “Don’t think about it.”

            “I wish to be a good sexual partner,” Cochise says, “and if this is a human activity…”

            “Not everyone does everything,” Tom soothes him, touching his shoulder.  “And we only do what we’re both comfortable with, remember?”

            “Thank you, Tom,” Cochise says.

            Tom shrugs.  “It’s just basic decency.”

            Cochise nods.  “And how does your genitalia work?  If I was human and we were attempting to reproduce, what would be the next step?”

            Tom blushes.  “If you were human, next I’d get hard.  That happens after stimulation…” He pauses, looks down at himself.  Okay, he’s apparently giving a penis demo.  “Or if you think about certain things.  Then, I’d put my penis in your vagina- you’d have a vagina- and then go at it until I orgasmed- I’d make sure you got off too!- and, yeah, that’s how it would work, if we were two humans trying to reproduce.  It’s way more fun than it sounds.  I think.”

            “I am certain that it would be pleasurable, even if I am not certain what a vagina is,” Cochise says. 

            Tom shrugs vaguely.  “They don’t teach us that in school, at least not much.  It’s where the penis goes in and the baby goes out.”

            “That they do not teach you about your reproduction system during your schooling seems most inefficient,” Cochise says.

            Tom shrugs again.  “That’s how it works.  I guess some people ask their parents for more info, but I couldn’t really do that.  So I just kind of pieced it together from school and stuff I heard people talk about.”

            “It seems as if your education system should prepare you for reproduction,” Cochise says.  “Or at least something should.  It is the most important function one can fulfil.”

            “Don’t ask me,” Tom says.  “I just went to school.  I think they figure we can figure it out ourselves.  But, whatever.  It’s not important now, considering I’m not trying to have sex with another human, but with an alien.  What’s important is do you think whether or not my junk looks like it’d be compatible with your junk?” 

            “You said that your penis will become larger?  How much larger?” Cochise asks.

            “I mean, not _huge_ , but slightly larger,” Tom says.  “I can, uh, show you, if you want.”

            “I would appreciate it,” Cochise says.

            Tom tries not to feel self-conscious as he reaches down and starts stroking himself.  It’s pretty easy to get himself hard with Cochise sitting in front of him, shirtless and looking up at him. 

            “So, uh, this is about it,” Tom says,

            “That is not much larger; I was worried it would be bigger,” Cochise says.  “That is not too large to fit inside my pouch.”

            “You should know that human guys like to think their penises are big.  It’s a pride thing,” Tom says, trying not to sound like he’s a little uncomfortable.  It’s a losing battle.  Like many teenage boys, he had thought about sex and all kinds of situations in which he might have sex, or at least get naked with someone, and it’s never been like this in any of his imaginings.  Like, at all.

            “Oh,” Cochise says.  “I am certain that you are in the top percentile for penis size, not just for humans but for all species with similar organs.  It is a spectacular organ, as are the rounded organs behind it.  I cannot wait to explore it.” 

            Tom smiles at the attempt (and he does feel better).  “Glad to impress.  And, uh, you can touch.  It’ll get me really turned on, though, just to warn you.”

            “You are certain?” 

            “You should know that this is kind of close to sex for humans,” Tom says, “just in case you don’t want to do that yet.”

            “Do not worry,” Cochise says.  “I would like to.”

            Cochise reaches out and touches Tom’s belly button again.  He slowly traces Tom’s happy trail, Tom trying not to moan as Cochise skirts over his sensitive skin.  Tom loses that battle as soon as Cochise hits the base of his cock. 

            Groaning, Tom feels his knees go weak as Cochise’s rough fingers start stroking down his dick.  He leans forward and grasps onto to Cochise’s shoulders to keep from falling over.

            “Have I harmed you?” Cochise asks, looking up at him in alarm.

            Tom shakes his head.  “Not at all.  Your fingers feel really good, actually.”

            “Do you wish to take a more comfortable position?” Cochise asks.  “Perhaps you should lay on the bed.”

            Tom nods, letting Cochise help him to the bed.  He lays back, propping himself up so he can watch Cochise. 

            Cochise seems to take a moment to look at him before reaching back forward.  He uses both his hands to explore Tom’s cock and balls, skimming around and down.  When Cochise presses hard on his ball sack, Tom cries out in the bad way.

            “That didn’t feel good!” he says.  “Those are delicate!”

            “I apologize,” Cochise says, pulling back.  “I did not mean to hurt you.”

            “It’s okay,” Tom says, voice strained.  “Just be gentle.”

            “Are you certain that you wish for me to continue?” Cochise says.  “It seems to be quite delicate.”

            “Oh yeah,” Tom says, nodding.  “You’re doing pretty well.  Just not with the balls.”

            “I am glad you informed me that I caused you pain,” Cochise says before reaching out and running his fingers along Tom’s cock again.  Just one hand this time, and definitely avoiding his balls.  Tom gasps as Cochise runs his fingers up and down his cock.  It’s so gentle that Tom can barely feel it, just enough to make him shake with the need for more.

            The gentleness of the touch is a contrast to the harshness of Cochise’s gaze.  He’s often felt disarmed by Cochise, but that’s nothing compared to this.  Tom wants to ask Cochise for more, to go faster, or else he wants to push against Cochise himself so he can get off, but it feels like Cochise is taking detailed notes about every bead of sweat, about every muscle spasm, about every shortened inhale of breath.  He doesn’t want to interfere with that, doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to.

Tom’s been pinned with Cochise barely touching him.  It’s exhilarating and awe-inspiring and Tom would be terrified of it if he was capable of any coherent thought.  He’s not, though.

But Tom’s been pinned by Cochise for a long time anyway and, actually, maybe that’s why he’s not terrified in the least.


	25. The Orgasms/A Disgusting Endeavor

            Cochise finds Tom’s reactions to his touches fascinating.  He gasps and shakes and makes the most exquisite faces.  It is easy to catalogue which touches elicit which responses and to repeat those touches for the desired effect.  He has noted that a clear liquid has started coming from the tip of Tom’s penis.  Given that Tom has had no reaction, Cochise determines that it is not waste and continues pleasuring Tom. 

After touching Tom’s balls and causing him pain, Cochise strenuously avoids touching them, or touching any part of Tom too hard.  His penis nevertheless seems quite responsive as he trails his fingers up and down it, exploring texture, temperature, and everything else.

            Over time, the rate of Tom’s breathing increases, face making new and exciting expressions.  It is then that Cochise realizes that he is experiencing a slick sensation in his pouch.   He has a sudden need to have Tom take hold of him and push inside him. 

            While Volm can easily be the penetrator and the one penetrated, many prefer to be penetrated.  Cochise has often wondered what it would feel like to produce an egg.  Having Tom penetrate him would not produce the desired effect, of course, but it would still be most pleasurable, Cochise is certain, even if his penis is thinner and softer than Cochise might expect.

            As Cochise is about to explain his desire for penetration, Tom suddenly begins seizing and large quantities of an unfamiliar whitish liquid shoot out of Tom’s penis.  His heart rate increases and his voice gets louder than Cochise has ever heard it as he yells out Cochise’s name. 

            Alarmed, Cochise stops touching Tom’s penis and scuttles to kneel beside him.  Cupping Tom’s face with the utmost care, he examines Tom, startled by how unalert he appears. 

            “Tom!” Cochise says urgently. 

He does not want to have to take Tom to the infirmary again, for so many reasons.  Tom is in his care, and somehow Cochise has injured him while trying to pleasure him.  Of course, Cochise will do whatever the doctor requires to make Tom well again.

His own heartbeat races as Tom’s lips turn into a smile, head lolling. 

“Please speak to me!” Cochise says, about to scoop Tom up.

“Cochise,” Tom murmurs.  He reaches up and presses his soft fingers against Cochise’s face. 

“Are you injured?” Cochise asks. 

“No,” Tom practically sighs.  “That felt so good.  God, Cochise…”

“That seemed quite unpleasant,” Cochise says, still concerned.

“It wasn’t,” Tom says, leaning up to kiss him.  “You made me feel incredible.” 

“You are certain that that is what you were feeling?  Incredible?” Cochise asks.

“Oh yeah,” Tom says.  “You’re amazing.”

Cochise relaxes a little.  “I am glad I misinterpreted your reaction.  I believed you had become ill again.”

“The opposite,” Tom assures him.  He pulls Cochise so he is laying next to him.  Of course, Cochise could easily resist, but he does not want to.  “What can I do to make you feel this good?”

“Please, just rest,” Cochise says.  “That must have been a huge strain and I do not wish for you to tire.”

“I’m fine, Cochise,” Tom says.  “I’m better than fine!  I feel wonderful!”

“If you are certain…” Cochise says, hesitant to make demands, but still feeling slick and ready for mating.  Plus, Tom is looking up at him brightly and happily.  “I would like for you to penetrate me.” 

Tom bites his lip.  “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.  I’m sorry.”

Cochise feels somewhat frustrated, on a purely biological level.  While mating with Tom would not be effective, Cochise still wants to fulfil that need.  Not until Tom wants to, however. 

“Please, do not apologize,” Cochise says.  Whenever Tom apologizes, Cochise worries that he is feeling a pressure to satisfy him sexually.  It would be unforgivable to pressure someone in such a manner.  Particularly Tom.  Cochise feels irrationally overprotective of Tom.

“I just want you to feel as good as I do,” Tom says.

“I feel quite well, I assure you,” Cochise says, resting a hand on Tom’s waist. 

“Maybe I can give you a hand job?” Tom asks.

“What is a hand job?” Cochise asks.

“Like what you just did, kind of.  Getting you off with my hand,” Tom says.  “You said you have a pouch?  Is there somewhere sensitive in there that you’d want me to touch?”

Cochise pales at the thought.  That does not sound pleasant; it is very similar to what the doctor required as payment to heal Tom and he had not enjoyed that.  Perhaps with Tom it would be different, as so many things have been, but Cochise does not wish to try that right now.

“I do not wish for you to do that to me,” Cochise says, keeping his voice even.

“Is there anything else?” Tom asks. 

“I enjoy it when you trail your fingers over me,” Cochise says.  “It is most soothing and pleasurable.”

“Are you sure that’s all you want me to do?” Tom asks.

“That is all I did to you,” Cochise points out. 

“Can I, uh, at least see your stuff, even if you don’t want me to touch you there yet?” Tom asks.

“Of course,” Cochise says. 

He reluctantly pulls away from Tom far enough to take his pants off.  Cochise sits up and spreads his legs in order to display himself for Tom.  From the outside, it cannot look like that much: just an opening in a similar place to where Tom’s penis is located and a smoother, slightly bumpy patch of skin right above it.

“When stimulated in certain ways, my genitalia externalizes so that I may penetrate another Volm,” Cochise explains as Tom looks at him.  “It is much like your penis, except wider, shorter, and harder.”

“Harder?” Tom asks.

“Would you like to see?” Cochise asks.

“Yes,” Tom says.  “How do I stimulate you?”

Cochise takes Tom’s hand and places it on the skin right above his pouch.

“Oh, that’s different,” Tom says as he starts to rub.  “That feels different.  It’s less ridge-y, more bumpy.”

“It is connected to my genitalia, and when you stimulate it properly, my genitalia will externalize so you may witness it,” Cochise explains.  “It has very sensitive nerve endings.”

“Cool,” Tom says.  “Can I try something to see if you’d like it?”

“Yes,” Cochise says.  Perhaps he should inquire as to what plans Tom has, but Cochise wishes to be surprised.  And he wishes to be more spontaneous as Tom is, even if it is not a widely sought after trait among the Volm.

Tom gets up on his knees and leans over.  Moving slowly, he sticks out his tongue.  Cochise is uncertain what he is about to do, but then Tom presses it against his sensitive area.  Tom licks across the bumpy skin.

It causes pleasure to shoot across Cochise in ways that he has never experienced previously.  He is unsure how to respond- this is somewhat disgusting but it is also so pleasurable, and perhaps some of the pleasure comes from how disgusting it ought to be- so he sits there and lets Tom keep pleasuring him. 

            Once Cochise’s genitalia has externalized- unfurling from the interior of his pouch and poking Tom in the throat- Tom pulls back and looks up at him with a frown on his face.

            “You didn’t like that?” Tom asks.

            It takes a few seconds for Cochise to formulate a response.  “That was an incredible feeling.”

            Tom tilts his head.  “Are you sure?  You didn’t really seem to respond.  You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

            “My genitalia externalized as a result of your stimulation,” Cochise points out.  “How else would you wish me to respond?”

            “I just…” A briefly miserable look flits across Tom’s face.  “I want to know that you’re enjoying yourself.”

            “I am,” Cochise reassures him.  He sets his hand on Tom’s cheek in the hopes of comforting him.  “What else is wrong?” 

            “Well, you’ve had sex with Volm before, right?” Tom asks.

            “Yes.”  Cochise does not understand the relevancy of his previous sexual experiences.

            “They must have known what they were doing to make you feel good.  And I don’t.  I’m worried that you’re not going to have a good time with me, and knowing you, you won’t even tell me because you don’t think your pleasure is important.  But it is,” Tom explains. 

            “I am going to have a good time with you,” Cochise says.  “You are Tom.”

            “So?” Tom says. 

            “So, I enjoy my time with you,” Cochise says.  “It follows that I will continue to enjoy our time together as we begin to become more intimate.”

            “I want to be a good boyfriend.  Lover.  Whatever,” Tom says. 

            “Were you not the one who informed me that our relationship could become whatever we wanted it to be?”

            Tom nods.

            “Then trust me when I inform you that I am enjoying myself.  I enjoyed touching your penis- I wish to do so again, and I enjoy it when you put your mouth on me, and I enjoy it when you sleep on me,” Cochise says.  “Volm do not always engage in vocal expressions in pleasure, but, I assure you, I am still feeling a great deal of pleasure.”

            “You’ll tell me if you’re not?” Tom asks.

            “Yes,” Cochise assures him.  “And I will make an effort to be slightly more expressive in the future, at least until we have determined how we pleasure each other most effectively.”

            “Then, uh, I have something else to try,” Tom says.  “You said you didn’t want me to touch the inside of your pouch, but would you be okay if I touched your Volm-penis?”

            Cochise pauses at him calling it a Volm-penis, but it is an accurate assessment, so Cochise accepts it.  He has noticed Tom’s need to relate everything back to something familiar.  Then he considers Tom’s proposal.  He is attempting to be spontaneous and the other activity that Tom suggested had been immensely pleasurable. 

            “Yes,” Cochise says. 

            Tom wraps his hand around Cochise’s genitalia, moving his hand up and down slowly.  Cochise is about to express his enjoyment of this experience when Tom leans back down and licks at the area above his pouch.  And now Cochise is incapable of expression or, indeed, thought. 

            Over time, Tom licks faster, leaving short wet trails above his pouch and even occasionally brushing his beard over his sensitive spot.  Cochise can feel his heart start to race, especially as Tom’s hand moves faster as well.  He cannot believe that he is about to reach completion so quickly.

            “Tom,” Cochise says as the familiar blue liquid begins to emerge from his own genitalia.  This would normally serve to fertilize an egg, but not this time.  “That was unbelievable.  I am uncertain how best to express my pleasure.”

            Its duty done, Cochise’s genitalia retracts. 

            “You’re sure?” Tom asks. 

            “Oh, yes,” Cochise murmurs.  He reaches forward and grasps Tom’s shoulders gently in order to urge him to his chest.  Tom does as Cochise wishes and curls against him, resting his chin on Cochise’s chest and looking up on him.  “I have never heard of such an act, and, trust me, it is a beyond pleasurable one.  I do not believe I will be able to move for quite some time.”

            Tom smiles widely at him.  “You really did enjoy it.”

            “I am uncertain how you learned to do such a thing, but I am glad that you have,” Cochise says. 

            “I read a lot of magazines,” Tom says. 

            “I do not know if you are joking or in earnest, but I do not care,” Cochise says.  He wraps his arms around Tom, playing with his hair and the fur on his body with a hand.  “I simply wish to enjoy your presence.” 

            Tom stretches and yawns before nodding.  “I’m good with that.  I just woke up, but I feel so sleepy.  A good roll in the hay will do that to you, apparently.” 

            Cochise continues to touch Tom gently.  “There was not any hay, nor much rolling,” he feels the need to point out.

            Tom nuzzles his face against Cochise’s chest, stifling a laugh.  “It’s an expression for sex.”

            “I see,” Cochise says.  He’s filled with a sudden warmth and affection for Tom.  He’s so soft and warm that Cochise is almost scared.  It would be so easy for something to happen to Tom, or for something to happen to Cochise, which could be disastrous for Tom’s wellbeing.  It is almost unthinkable.  “I care for you so deeply,” he switches over to the Volm Standardized Tongue in order to ensure that Tom does understand him, “that it is more terrifying than exhilarating sometimes.”

            Tom blinks in confusion, a small smile spreading across his face.  Cochise is alarmed that Tom has somehow picked up his language.  “I know you’re probably just saying random words, but it sounds nice anyway.” 

            “I am glad you enjoy the sound of my language,” Cochise says. 

            “Plus I just plain old enjoy you,” Tom murmurs. 

            “Thank you,” Cochise says, pressing his lips against the top of Tom’s head.  “I enjoy you as well.”

            Tom beams up at him and it fills Cochise with comfort. 


	26. The Long Wait/A Friend

            Tom is, not going to lie, slightly scared of Cochise’s Volm penis.  Okay, maybe just intimidated.  It had just kind of popped out of Cochise’s little pouch.  That’s not actually why Tom is intimidated. 

            It’s so hard.  Not like how Tom’s dick gets hard, where it’s still kind of smushy.  It felt like it was encased in the same thing that Cochise’s back is.  His dick has an exoskeleton.  He’s not entirely sure if he’ll be able to take it in his butt or whatever if Cochise wants to have sex like that.  Not that Cochise would ever pressure him, but Tom would like to.

            Tom enjoys touching and exploring Cochise’s body though.  It feels like that’s most of what they do these days.  Not that suddenly everything is sexual, but Tom can tell Cochise about the expansion of his nation while finding out the exact texture of Cochise’s exoskeleton and comparing it to his Volm penis.  And Cochise can tell him about Volm ideas of beauty while tracing a finger along his sternum.  Unsurprisingly, their ideals are pretty much the opposite of Tom’s frail little body.

            It’s stopped making Tom self-conscious, though.  After all, Cochise has pretty much seen all of him at this point and he’s always eager to be with him.  Tom’s even started wandering around without his shirt so Cochise can play with his chest hair whenever he wants. 

            Tom decides that he wants to finally have sex with Cochise.  He thinks about how tender and good Cochise would make him feel, and he wants it.  He wants the closeness, the tenderness, the being with Cochise in a brand new way.

            He lays in bed one afternoon and shimmies out of his pants.  Why not surprise Cochise?  Sure, maybe they won’t be able to have sex right away because Tom didn’t exactly think to bring a condom with him when he was abducted by aliens, but Cochise will enjoy the surprise. 

            It starts to get later than Cochise usually comes home, but Tom doesn’t worry yet.  Cochise sometimes has unexpected business to attend to, especially on days when he visits potential allies.  He just stretches and walks around a bit.  One of the nice things about dating an alien is he doesn’t have to worry about posing and being sexy; human standards don’t really apply to the Volm, and Volm standards don’t really apply to Cochise anyway.

            When Cochise is hours late and Tom starts to get hungry, however, he starts to worry.  It’s not like Cochise to let Tom go without food if he’s held up.  Cochise has gotten Chal to come feed him a couple times.  Sometimes Tom thinks he does it on purpose in order to give them an excuse to hang out together, which he appreciates. 

            Tom goes over to the desk and grabs the communication device.  He’s never had to use it before, but he’s worried.  There’s no way that Cochise just forgot about him. 

            The communication device beeps and beeps and beeps but the screen stays blank.  Tom stares at it intensely, waiting for Cochise’s face to appear. 

            Heart pounding in the least pleasant way, Tom replaces the communication device on the desk.  He needs to keep himself calm.  There’s probably a perfectly good reason as to why Cochise is so late, and he’ll come through the door any minute, apologizing profusely and explaining why he was so late as he hands Tom his food.

            He paces around the room, convincing himself that Cochise is okay.  There’s no other option. 

            Hours later he’s curled under the covers, hope pretty much gone, when the door slides open.  Tom bolts upward, about to call out Cochise’s name in excitement when he sees that it isn’t him.

            “Where’s Cochise?” Tom says, trying hard to keep his voice even. 

            Chal comes over to him and looks down.  “He is in the infirmary.”

            “What happened?  Is he okay?” Tom asks as his heart pounds.

            “While seeking out new allies, his squad was attacked by hostile forces.  He ensured that his comrades returned to their shuttle before returning himself,” Chal says.  “They shot him several times before he managed to return to his shuttle.  He is currently in a regenerative state in an attempt to heal the damage.”

            “That sounds serious,” Tom says.  He can’t believe that Cochise got hurt.  He’s not supposed to get hurt.  “That sounds really, really bad, Chal.  Please tell me that it isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

            “I will not lie to you, Tom,” Chal says.  “It is serious.”

            Tom grabs his clothes and starts getting dressed.  “You have to take me to see him.  I have to see him.”

            “You may not leave this room,” Chal says. 

            “What do you mean?” Tom says, frowning. 

            “You are not permitted in the infirmary,” Chal says.  “I came to inform you of his injury and attempt to provide comfort, but I cannot take you to him.”

            “There’s no way you can sneak me in there?  Please, Chal,” Tom begs, wiping at his eyes.  “It’s Cochise; I don’t want him to be alone.”

            “He is unconscious and incapable of acknowledging your presence,” Chal says.  “I can bring you sustenance, however.  I had considered bringing you food initially, but I believed that you would rather know of Chichauk’s condition immediately.” 

            “You were right,” Tom says.  “I’m definitely not hungry now.”

            “It is important for you to consume nutrients,” Chal says.  They place a hesitant hand on Tom’s arm.  “You cannot aid Chichauk and so you must aid yourself instead.”

            “I can still sit with him and be there for him,” Tom says.  “I don’t want him to wake up alone.” 

            “It will be hours before he wakes up, if he wakes up,” Chal says.

            “ _If_?!” Tom exclaims.  “What do you mean if?”

            “Nothing is certain,” Chal explains.  “It is possible that something could go wrong, no matter how unlikely.”

            Tom sighs deeply, trying to steady himself.  He can’t believe that Cochise has been hurt, that he could die, and that here he is, sitting in their room instead of at his bedside.

            “Do not worry,” Chal says, “should anything happen to Chichauk, I will take care of you.  You will not be made available for everyone.”

            Tom looks up at them, frowning.  “I’m not worried about me, Chal.  I’m worried about Cochise.” 

            “You are in a precarious position, without Chichauk around.  You should be worried about yourself,” Chal says.

            Shaking his head, Tom gets up.  “Not while Cochise is hurt.  Take me to the infirmary.”

            “I cannot,” Chal says.  “I can take you to food.”

            Tom pauses for a second and then nods.  “Okay.  We can go to the commissary.”

            Chal opens the door and gestures at Tom to leave.  Tom does so, immediately slowing down so he ends up a few steps behind them.  When Tom thinks that Chal isn’t paying close attention, he turns and runs in the general direction that he thinks the infirmary is.  His memories of going to the infirmary are scattered and blurry, but Tom tries to piece it together enough to get to Cochise.

            “Tom!” Chal’s voice comes from behind him and Tom speeds up.  “Stop!”

            Tom only makes it a few more steps before an arm wraps around his waist. 

            “Let me go!” Tom says, struggling against Chal.

            Another arm wraps around his chest, holding him tightly in place.  Tom can feel angry and scared tears start to flow.  He keeps fighting against Chal’s hold.

            “You must cease!” Chal hisses.  “You are going to draw attention to yourself and they are going to force me to discipline you.  Ill-behaved pets are not given leeway.  I do not wish to harm you, but my superior officers will not give me a choice.”

            It’s been so long since Tom has been hurt, but he still remembers, the thought still makes him feel so small on the inside.  He stops struggling and ends up just standing there in Chal’s arms.

            “I had to try to get to Cochise,” Tom mumbles, face hot.  Trying to get away from Chal had been supremely stupid.  “I had to try to see him.” 

            “I understand.  You care a great deal for Chichauk, but you must ensure your own wellbeing.  It is what he desires,” Chal says.  It almost feels as if they’re giving him a proper hug.  “When he awakens- which is the most likely outcome- he will wish for you to be well fed and safe, not malnourished and injured.”

            Tom nods wearily, resting his head against their shoulder.  “I know he will.”

            “Then come and eat,” Chal says.  “Perhaps late tonight, I will be able to sneak you in to see Chichauk, even if I do not understand your desire to see his unconscious body.” 

            “Thank you,” Tom says.  “I’m sorry for running away from you.”

            “Please do not do so again,” Chal says.  They pull away, but they keep a hand on his arm to guide him and to keep him in place.  The two of them manage to make it to the commissary without further incident.

            “You’re a good friend, Chal,” Tom says, peeking over at them as they eat. 

            “You consider us friends?” Chal asks.

            Tom shrugs.  “Of course.  Don’t you?”

            “I am uncertain,” Chal says.  “Friendship is a complicated endeavor, especially when another Volm’s alien pet is involved.”

            “Cochise doesn’t have a problem with us being friends,” Tom says, shrugging.   “He doesn’t control me.”

            “You and Chichauk are both unusual beings; I am pleased to be your friend,” Chal says and they’re smiling at him.  

            Tom’s chest feels too heavy and tight to smile back, but it’s good someone is happy.  Chal is used to the worry, Tom guesses.  Or maybe they don’t even worry at this point.

But he just can’t help but imagine terrible pictures of Cochise, bloody and broken in ways that Tom would never wish on anyone.  Even if he knows he can’t help, Tom needs to see Cochise for his own sake.  He needs to hold his hand and reassure them both that he’ll be okay. 


	27. The Secret, Revealed/The Visit

            “Do you wish to stay in my quarters tonight?” Chal asks when they’re finished with their food. 

            “I don’t want to impose on you,” Tom says.

            “You are my friend.  You require emotional comfort.  Chichauk has informed me about that aspect of your species,” Chal says.  “And I am closer to the infirmary.”

            “Thank you,” Tom says. 

            “I know the circumstances are dire, but I am looking forward to spending time with you,” Chal says.  “I will attempt to keep you occupied to distract you until it is late enough to sneak into the infirmary.”

            “It’ll be like a super depressing sleepover,” Tom says as they walk to Chal’s room. 

            “What is a sleepover?” Chal asks. 

            “You go and hang out with your friends at their houses and you spend the night,” Tom says. 

            “What other activities do you engage in?”

            Tom shrugs.  “Just hanging out, I guess.  I dunno, I never had a sleepover, and I didn’t get invited to many either.” 

            “You did not have many friends?”

            “Nah,” Tom says, shaking his head.  “I really didn’t, especially not close ones, not before you and Cochise.”

            Chal blinks and opens the door to their quarters.  “I find this surprising.  You are quite sociable and pleasant.” 

            Tom shrugs as he walks inside.  “I had a weird childhood.  It made making friends hard.”

            “This is unfortunate for the humans of your planet,” Chal says. 

            Tom doesn’t want to talk more about that- today has been bad enough- so he looks around Chal’s room instead.  It’s smaller and they don’t have a desk. 

            “I forgot that the walls are grey,” Tom says.

            “What do you mean?” Chal asks.

            “I guess I can’t see all the colors the Volm see, so a lot of Volm stuff looks grey,” Tom says.  “But we’ve drawn all kinds of things on our walls.”

            “You draw?  On Chichauk’s walls?” they ask.

            “We both draw on our walls.  Well, except the one with the mural that Cochise likes, but I can’t see,” Tom explains, smiling fondly at the thought.  Cochise has tried to explain what the mural looks like, but Tom still doesn’t get it.  “Cochise wanted me to be able to enjoy the décor, I guess.”

            Chal tilts their head.  “I am glad that he takes such care.”

            Tom sits on the edge of Chal’s bed.  “He really does.”

            Chal presses their lips together.

            “What’s wrong?” Tom asks. 

            “I do not wish to speak ill of my commanding officer, even if you are my friend,” Chal says.

            “Why would you speak badly of him?” Tom asks, crossing his arms defensively.

            “We should not discuss this,” Chal says.

            “No, I wanna know what bad things you think about Cochise!” Tom says angrily.  “Especially since he almost got himself killed today keeping people safe, from the sounds of it!”

            “I do not believe this is a thing you genuinely wish to know,” Chal says.

            “Humor me,” Tom says icily.

            “We simply used to share certain values, and with your presence, it became clear that his commitment to our value system was weak,” Chal says.

            “It isn’t,” Tom says, frowning.

            “You do not know of our ways,” Chal says.

            “Cochise told me.  He told me all about how he’s opposed to keeping aliens as pets.  But it’s different for him,” Tom explains.

            “There is always an excuse,” Chal says.

            “No!  Really!”  Tom says.  Maybe he can’t go see Cochise or help him, but he can at least clear his name to someone they both care about (or, at least, Tom is pretty sure that Cochise cares about Chal.  As much as Volm do caring about each other).  And since Chal has the same value system as Cochise does, it’s probably okay for them to find out about how Cochise is.  “I asked to come here.”

            “Many of the alien pets do, initially,” Chal says.  “I worry what will happen to you when you change your mind.”

            “Chal, that’s sweet, but Cochise isn’t like that.  He’s never made me do anything, and he never will.  We didn’t even start getting physically intimate for months,” Tom says.  “He said we could stop whenever I wanted- not that I want to.”

            “Months?” Chal asks.  “That is a long time.”

            Tom shrugs.  “I mean, that I was being his pet or whatever was our cover.  I needed to get away from Earth, and I guess Cochise sensed that.  He said that was the best way to make sure I could stay, so we pretended, but I was never really used as his pet, not like that.”

            “That explains your language usage,” Chal says.

            “What?” Tom says, confused.  This is not the reaction that Tom had expected.

            “You use language that suggests ownership.  You did not say ‘Cochise’s wall.’  You said ‘our wall.’  It was confusing, as alien pets do not usually feel such ownership, especially not after months here,” Chal says.

            “Cochise always says that stuff is mine, too,” Tom says.  “Heck, he used to sleep on the floor because he was worried about making me feel uncomfortable, and he even offered to give me to you when he thought that I wanted to live with you instead.  Yeah, sure, maybe everything’s not totally equal, but it’s as close as Cochise can make it.” 

            “I am both relieved that Chichauk has not betrayed his ideals and startled that he has constructed such a ruse,” Chal says.

            “You can’t tell anyone!  And we’re together now anyway, so it’s only kind of a lie,” Tom says.

            “Do not worry, I will not reveal your deception,” Chal says.  “I do not wish to see you hurt, and I do not agree with the policy that makes it easier for alien pets to seek asylum when they engage in sexual intercourse with a Volm.”

            “Thanks, Chal,” Tom says.  “It is a really terrible rule.”

            “Much has changed among the Volm since the war came,” Chal says.  “I believe that many of the changes were necessary to perpetuate our species, but this was not one of them.” 

            Tom nods.  “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

            “That is a succinct way to put it,” Chal says.  They pause.  “We may be able to sneak into the infirmary now.”

            “Okay!” Tom says, jumping up. 

            “You must be quiet,” Chal says.  “Stay behind me and do not make eye contact with anyone else.  Do not appear excited or emotional.”

            They lead him to the door and Tom does as he says.  He keeps his eyes on Chal’s shoulder, concentrating hard on not betraying anything he’s feeling.  He’s going to see Cochise for the first time in too long, but, God, he’s going to hurt, probably badly.  And unconscious.  But alive.  And that’s what’s important to remember: Cochise is alive. 

            Chal speaks to a few Volm on the way, and Tom continues to stare resolutely at Chal’s shoulder.  He stops when they stop and starts walking when they start walking. 

            “Okay, quick,” Chal says, opening the infirmary door.

            Tom darts inside.  It takes him a few seconds to adapt to the lower light, but he sees Cochise laying a table.  He rushes over, startled to see that he’s not hooked up to any machines and that it looks like no one is monitoring his condition.

            “Cochise.  Hey there,” Tom murmurs around the lump in his throat.  He coughs a little to try to clear it.  “You’ve got to get better, okay?  I miss you already.”

            His eyes adjust a little more, and Tom can see that a whole part of Cochise’s torso is missing.  There are also burn marks and scorch marks on his torso.  One of his arms is at an odd angle and his head is busted open.

            “This looks so bad,” Tom murmurs, trying and failing to hold back his tears.

            “It is, but his regenerative state has helped tremendously.  This is much less alarming than when they initially brought him to the infirmary,” Chal reassures him. 

            Tom finds his hand and holds it tightly.  It’s so hot that it almost feels like burning. “You’re going to be alright.  You’re strong.  And we’ve got so much to talk about still, so you don’t have another choice.”

            Cochise doesn’t move, doesn’t respond.

            “I know you,” Tom drops his voice so Chal can’t overhear.  “I know that even though you’re the one who is hurt, you’re going to be all worried about me.  But I’m okay- Chal’s looking out for me.  So you just worry about yourself.”

            Tom stares at him, cataloguing every bit of him in a twisted version of what he’s been doing for the last couple weeks.  Except, of course, this time he can’t touch, and he doesn’t really want to anyway. 

            “Cochise, please wake up,” Tom says, squeezing his hand. 

            “We do not have much more time,” Chal says urgently.  “You cannot be caught in here or you will be disciplined painfully.”

            The emotional part of him wants to say fuck it and risk getting caught.  But Tom knows that he’s not actually doing _that_ much to help Cochise, especially not so much as to be worth the risk.  Cochise would feel guilty if Tom was hurt for his sake.

            Tom leans down and whispers into his ear.  “You’re going to be okay.  I’d stay with you if I could, but I know you wouldn’t want that.  But I know that you’re going to be okay.  I love you, Cochise.”

            He lets go of Cochise’s hand hesitantly and wipes his face with his hands quickly before turning back towards Chal. 

            “Okay,” Tom says.  “Let’s go back to your room.”

            “Follow me,” Chal says, leading the way.

            Tom manages to stare blankly at Chal’s shoulder until they make it back to their room.  As soon as he makes it inside, though, he crumples.


	28. A Comfort/The Care and Keeping of a Human

            “Tom,” Chal’s voice comes from behind him.  “Tom, is this normal human behavior or do you require assistance?” 

            His chest is heaving as he slumps to the ground.  Tom tries to get ahold of himself enough to respond, but he can’t.  Cochise has, unsurprisingly under the circumstances, basically become pretty much his entire life.  Sure, Tom did his own research, but who is the only person who Tom always shares it with?  Cochise.  And now that he’s absent, maybe forever, it’s this big, weird gap in his chest that Tom’s not sure how to deal with. 

            Tom had always been an independent person.  There hadn’t really been a choice.  After all, it wasn’t like he could rely on his dad and he had to keep everyone else at arm’s length.  If Tom had let anyone find out what was happening, Tom is pretty sure his dad would have just put him six feet under as punishment.

            And then he had found his escape, with Cochise, and it had been okay to tell Cochise the things that had been done to him.  Even if Tom had never gone into the gory details, just knowing he could if he needed to had been a breath of fresh air.  Somehow it had bled into some kind of weird interconnectedness that Tom hadn’t even known he was capable of sharing with another person. 

            Tom is pretty sure that it’s not necessarily _bad_ to be this attached to someone, except that despite Cochise’s assurances that he was safe, he obviously wasn’t.  It’s better than where Tom would have been without Cochise, at least. 

            He realizes that he’s still gasping and sobbing, with Chal crouching beside him.  They’re clearly uncertain about what to do, so Tom just nods, hoping that Chal gets that this is okay human behavior. 

            “Chichauk has informed me that it is appropriate to touch a human when they are in distress.  That you find being held closely comforting.  Is that something that you desire right now?” Chal asks.

            Tom nods, surprised at the suggestion.  He’s even more surprised when Chal wraps their arms around him.  It’s kind of tight, but it’s not going to crack a rib.  His arms are awkwardly pinned to his sides, so all Tom can do is sit there and cry. 

            “I will ensure your safety,” Chal says in his ear.  “And I am nearly certain that you will see Chichauk again, alive.”

            “Yeah?” Tom manages to say.

            “We are adapted to resilience,” Chal says, “and Chichauk is young and strong, which increases the chances that he will make a full recovery.”

            Tom stays there for a few minutes or a few hours (probably somewhere in the middle) before he’s able to calm himself down.  Then he sits with Chal’s arms around him for a little bit longer.

            “I’m sorry,” Tom murmurs.  “I know the Volm aren’t big on physical touching, so thank you for this.”

            “I am your friend,” Chal replies.  “And I will look after your emotional needs in this difficult time, as well as your physical needs.  Do you require a nap?”

            “I am tired.”  Tom yawns.  “But how did you know?”

            “Chichauk has briefed me on your needs,” Chal says. 

            “What?” Tom asks, pulling back a little.  Well, trying to, but ending up stuck in Chal’s arms.  “And you can let me go.”

            Chal lets go of him and Tom scoots to give them their space. 

            “Chichauk informed me of certain needs you have that differ from Volm needs.  Tangentially, I have not constructed you a toilet,” Chal says.

            Tom feels kind of weirded out.  Have his weird human habits been some kind of entertainment for Cochise and Chal?  He’s not sure how he feels about that. 

            “I don’t need to poop right now,” Tom says.  “But, uh, what have you and Cochise been saying about me?”

            “He has also informed me on your need for sleep, your feeding schedule, and your use of your datapad to study history, along with other things.  Chichauk wished to ensure I could care for you in the event of his injury or demise,” Chal says.  “You are alarmingly precious to him.”

            “ _Oh_ ,” Tom says.  There’s a lump in his throat and suddenly he’s crying again. 

            “What have I done wrong?” Chal asks, panic clear.

            “Nothing,” Tom says, sniffing. 

            “You are expressing sadness again,” Chal says.

            “It’s just…” Tom composes himself again.  “It’s real sweet of Cochise to be prepared like that, and for you to be willing to listen.  Even if you do think it’s alarming.”

            “It _is_ alarming,” Chal says. 

            “Why?” Tom asks.

            “You are a distraction,” Chal says.  “And I worry about the friction it will cause when Chichauk matures to mating age.  I do not believe he will dispense with you as social convention says he should.” 

            “And how is that?” Tom asks.  It’s so jarring when he realizes he’s technically Cochise’s property.

            “He should give you to a younger subordinate; I would be the most likely candidate,” Chal explains.  “But when he tells me of your habits or of your personality, it is not because he is preparing me for ownership.  It is either in case of emergency, as I said, or because he finds your behavior so enthralling that he must share.”

            “So then what’ll happen to me?” Tom asks.

            “It is Chichauk’s decision,” Chal says.

            Tom breathes a sigh of relief.  Cochise will never let anything happen to him. 

            “You should rest,” Chal says.  “I believe that you are tired.”

            “Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Tom asks.

            Chal shakes their head.  “You should sleep on the bed.  I do not require sleep tonight.”

            “Okay, thank you,” Tom says.  He crawls into bed and stretches out, pulling the covers up. 

            “Goodnight, Tom,” Chal says.

            Tom smiles despite himself.  Something else that Cochise must have told them.  “Goodnight, Chal.”

            It’s almost impossible to fall asleep.  Tom has become used to the comfortable feeling of Cochise beneath him.  His skin, his heartbeat, his arms wrapped tight around him.  Now, he’s just alone in a strange bed. 

            He can feel their eyes watching him, but it doesn’t bother him.  It’s startling and nice to realize that there are two people who care about him.  Two wonderful people.  It seems impossible to understand. 

            Tom doesn’t really manage to sleep, of course.  He’s scared and uncomfortable and he wishes he could be sitting next to Cochise right now. 

            “Do you require anything?” Chal asks.  “I know that you are not asleep, even though two hours have passed.”

            Tom turns over to face them.  “It’s just hard to fall asleep.”

            “Can I assist in any way?” Chal asks.

            “This is kind of weird, but can you just come here and talk to me?  In Volm?” Tom asks.  “It doesn’t matter what you say; I won’t understand it.”

            “Why do you enjoy it if you do not understand it?”

            “It sounds nice,” Tom says.  “I find it comforting.”

            Chal comes and sits next to him, resting their hand on his shoulder.  “Then I will talk to you as you wish.”

            Tom drifts off to the sound of Chal’s voice, lighter yet harsher than Cochise’s.  The foreign sounds are still so familiar that they serve as a distinct comfort.  He pretends the voice is Cochise’s as he drifts off to sleep.


	29. A Miscommunication/A Discommunication

            Tom wakes up to the sound of a light yet harsh voice, talking comfortingly in Volm.  He snuggles a little closer to the voice.  To Cochise.  He’s not sure why Cochise isn’t underneath him, but this is okay, too.

            And then he opens his eyes and realizes how grey the walls are.  And when he turns to look up, it’s Chal sitting next to him, still speaking.  Oh, right, Cochise isn’t here right now.  It’s a weird dull thud in his chest. 

            “Good morning,” Tom says, looking up at them.

            “Good morning, Tom,” Chal says. 

            “Did you keep talking all night?” Tom asks.

            “Of course,” Chal says.

            “You didn’t have to do that,” Tom says.

            “But you stated it would help you sleep,” Chal says.  “I wished to ensure you received all of your rest.  It is important for humans to rest.”

            “Oh, man, I should have been clearer,” Tom says, feeling bad.  “I only needed you to talk until I was asleep.”

            Chal makes a humming noise.  “That was an unfortunate waste of eight hours.  I will remember for tonight.”

            “Sorry,” Tom says, frowning.  “And, uh, you think that I’ll be here for another night?”

            “For several,” Chal says.  “Cochise will require recovery time once he awakens.”

            “Oh, okay,” Tom says, pensive.  He knows he can’t rush these things, but he wants to go back home to Cochise.

            “That I have yet to be informed of his death is a positive sign.  It is the initial injury period that is the most dangerous,” Chal says.  “As he is still alive, it is likely he will eventually recover.  It may take more time than would be preferable, but he will recover.”

            “Good,” Tom says.  He sighs and sits up.

            “I must attend to my duty station soon,” Chal says.

            “I’ll get up,” Tom says, stretching.

Chal has breakfast with him and then takes him back to his quarters while they’re at their duty station.  It gives Tom a chance to poop.  Chal offers to try to recreate the toilet in their bathroom, but Tom insists that he’s not going to be staying with Chal long enough for that to be necessary.  Even when they hit a week together.  It feels like having a toilet in Chal’s bathroom would be giving up on Cochise somehow.  He’s not sure when the toilet became so significant.

            They can’t sneak him into the infirmary every night, but Tom gets to see Cochise every couple days, at least.  Tom murmurs softly, reassuring Cochise that Chal is taking good care of him, that all Cochise should do is focus on himself.  Chal doesn’t understand why he keeps talking to Cochise since they know that Cochise can’t hear him, but Tom doesn’t even try to explain.  It just feels right.

            Apart from that, Tom tries to spend as much time as possible reading Volm history.  It distracts him and he has to have plenty to tell Cochise when he wakes up.  Chal discusses it with him, but mostly they are interested in discussing some of the finer points of the English language.  Sometimes, Tom doesn’t really see the importance of the distinction between when he uses ‘really’ or ‘very’ as an intensifier (and he’s not really sure of the difference to be honest), but it makes Chal light up in excitement, so Tom carries on the conversation.

            Chal talks him to sleep each night, which Tom appreciates.  They also rest their hand on his shoulder while he falls asleep, which is immensely comforting.  Another friendly, enjoyable touch, to substitute what he’s missing right now.  Tom knows the Volm don’t do touching that much, so Tom super appreciates their willingness to comfort him like this.  After the first night, though, Chal doesn’t spend all night talking, which is probably for the best.  It means no more waking up and mistaking Chal for Cochise in his early morning fog.

            When he’s visiting Cochise in the infirmary a little over a week later, Tom is feeling desperate.  By now, Cochise looks okay.  Chal says some mumbo jumbo about internal injuries that goes all the way over Tom’s head.  It stresses him out even more, somehow. 

            Tom holds Cochise’s hand and strokes his face, as always.  “Come on, Cochise.  You’ve gotta wake up.  I think Chal is starting to get tired of me.” 

            “You are incorrect.  I enjoy your presence immensely,” Chal chimes in.

            Tom snorts and lowers his voice.  “I’ve got so much Volm history to talk over with you, Cochise.  And I miss you so much it’s starting to hurt.”

            There’s a tightening around his fingers and Tom looks down at their hands in shock. 

            “Cochise!”  He turns to look at Chal.  “I think I felt his fingers move!”

            “That is a positive sign,” Chal says.

            “Come on, Cochise!” Tom says when he turns back to Cochise, heart pounding.  Cochise could be awake, he could talk to Cochise again, it’s been so long and Tom is worried he’s forgotten what Cochise’s voice sounds like.  It’s his favorite sound and he’s forgotten it, in just one week.  “Wake up, please.”

            “You should not be here,” Cochise’s voice is too quiet and frail, not the strong, firm cadence that Tom is used to, but the sound of it gives him a swelling, elated feeling in his chest.  He’s about to burst in the best way.  It’s Cochise.  “You are not allowed.”

            “Chal is watching out, don’t worry,” Tom says, squeezing Cochise’s hand.  “How are you feeling?  Do you need anything?” 

            “I am glad to see your face,” Cochise says.  “You are well?”

            “Yeah, don’t worry about me; Chal’s been taking great care of me.  I’ve just been thinking about you,” Tom says. 

            “You have been worrying about me.  It is unnecessary.  I am healing at an acceptable rate,” Cochise says. 

            Tom smiles widely.  “Good.  You just need to concentrate on getting better.” 

            “I wish to heal so I can return to you.  It will be most lonely in here without you,” Cochise says. 

            “Maybe we should break you out,” Tom jokes.

            “You must not!” Cochise exclaims.  “It would be futile and you would be punished severely.”

            “It was a joke,” Tom assures him, stroking his cheek.  It’s so good to feel the leathery skin under his fingers, moving and shifting as Cochise talks.  “I want you to stay here as long as you need so you can get better.”

            “I apologize for overreacting.  I am still recovering and I am somewhat mentally inept at the moment,” Cochise says. 

            “Don’t apologize,” Tom says.  “Should I leave you alone?  Do you need rest?”

            Cochise nods with clear reluctance.  “I do not wish you to leave, but I believe you must.”

            Tom smiles.  “It’s so good to see you awake again.  I can’t even express how good.”  He leans down and presses a careful kiss to Cochise’s cheek. 

            “It was a great surprise to awaken to your presence.  I wish we had more time together,” Cochise says.  He squeezes his hand back.  “But I will return to you, do not worry.”

            “Bye, Cochise,” Tom says.  _I love you_ Tom doesn’t say, mostly because he’s pretty sure he’s going to have to explain what that means and this isn’t the time or the place.  His hand is cold when he takes it out of Cochise’s. 

            “Goodbye, Tom.  I will see you soon,” Cochise says. 

            Chal comes to stand next to them.  Tom listens as they both speak in Volm to each other.  There’s no evidence of it- of course they’re going to talk in their native language to each other- but Tom is pretty sure that they’re talking about him.  He’s curious about what word they use for him, since they avoid saying his name. 

            Tom kisses Cochise again before they leave, promising that they’ll come back as soon as they can.  Cochise admonishes him for taking risks with his safety. 

            There’s no way to keep the spring out of his step as he stares at Chal’s shoulder on the way back to their room. 


	30. The Selfish, Unintelligent Tom/The Death

            “I can’t believe it!” Tom says loudly when they return to Chal’s quarters.  “Cochise is awake!  I can’t wait to go back and get to visit properly.”

            “I am aware,” Chal says flatly.  “I had informed you it would happen.”

            Tom squints at them.  Why do they seem so unhappy?  “What’s wrong?  I know you guys don’t get as emotional as humans do, but I thought you’d be kind of happy.”

            “I am pleased to see Chichauk alive and healing,” Chal says, “but I have unwelcome news for you.”

            “What do you mean?” Tom asks, frowning.  “Is he not getting better?”

            “He is healing adequately,” Chal says.  “Do not worry about Chichauk’s health.”

            “Then what?” Tom says. 

            “We will not go back to visit him,” Chal says.

            Tom shakes his head.  “What?  Of course we are.”

            “It is too much of a risk for you,” Chal says. 

            “I don’t care,” Tom says.  “I’ll take the risk willingly.”

            “You must not,” Chal says.

“We’re going back tomorrow,” Tom says, “and that’s that.”

“No,” Chal says.

Tom presses his lips together.  “Why not?  We’ve done it plenty of times before.”

“Because if anyone else catches you, you will be hurt.  I will not be responsible for that, nor will Chichauk,” Chal says.  “The thought is very painful for him and he does not need that burden.”

“That’s what you and Cochise were talking about, isn’t it?” Tom says, crossing his arms.  He can’t believe this.  “This is his idea.”

“It is,” Chal says.  “Although, I was never comfortable taking you to the infirmary.”

“Whatever,” Tom says moodily.  He lays down in bed and turns his back to Chal. 

“He is only concerned with your safety,” Chal says, sitting next to him.  “You cannot fault him for that.”

“I know he is,” Tom says to the wall, “but I want to be able to be there for him while he’s hurt.”

“If you are hurt, you will not be able to be there for him,” Chal points out.  “Your wellbeing is the most important thing to him.”

“And his is most important to me,” Tom says.  “What are they going to do if they find me there?  Beat me?  Not let you feed me for a few days?  I don’t care.”

“I do not understand how you can be so unconcerned with your own wellbeing,” Chal says. 

“My dad used to beat me,” Tom says, shrugging with feigned nonchalance.  “A lot.  Sometimes he’d forget to feed me for a while.  That kind of stuff.  Almost killed me a few times.  At least there’d be some kind of reason this time.”

Chal puts their hand on Tom’s shoulder and turns him onto his back.  Tom stares up at Chal, sad and angry. 

“This is why Chichauk took you in?” Chal asks.

“He didn’t know at the time- there hadn’t been time to explain everything,” Tom says, “but he knew something was wrong.”

“I see,” Chal says.  “This does not mean that it is acceptable for you to be harmed now.”

“I know!  And I’m certainly not eager for someone to hurt me again.  But at least this time, it wouldn’t be a given, and it would be for a reason,” Tom says.  “Not to satisfy someone’s sadistic desires, but to be there for someone I care about when he’s hurt.”

“You are being unintelligent and selfish,” Chal says.

“Excuse me?” 

“You are thinking only of your desire to be near your mate,” Chal says, “and you are not considering Chichauk’s feelings.  Do you believe that he wishes to see you hurt?  Especially on his behalf?  How would you feel in the reverse position?”

“No…” Tom says, looking away.  “I’d feel pretty terrible.”

“Do you believe that he would wish to watch over you to ensure that you are not feeling ill effects of the electric prod?” Chal asks.  “It has been known to cause numerous complications in species that are frailer than the Volm.”

“No!” Tom says.

“Then you must be content to stay away from Chichauk for now,” Chal says.  “You will be reunited with him soon, I promise.”

Tom nods, trying to get into it.  The separation is for the best.  It’s for Cochise.  “You’re right.”

“I will bring you updates on his condition,” Chal promises. 

Tom sighs.  “Thank you.”

“You are my friend, even when you are being selfish and unintelligent,” Chal says.

Tom reaches up and squeezes their arm gently.  “I’m glad you’re my friend, even when I’m being selfish and unintelligent.” 

“Goodnight, Tom,” Chal says.

“Goodnight, Chal.”

Tom doesn’t sleep much that night, even though Chal doesn’t stop talking in Volm.  Chal also doesn’t ask why he’s still awake, which Tom appreciates.  He just wants to lay there and think. 

It had been selfish, sneaking in to see Cochise.  He had just wanted to see Cochise so badly.  Now that he thinks about it a little more, he’s sure that he wouldn’t have been the only one who would have been punished if Tom had been caught.  Certainly Chal would have been punished too.  Tom doesn’t know how, but he’s sure that it wouldn’t be pleasant for them.  And it would have been because of selfish, unintelligent Tom.  Somewhere along the way, Tom starts to drift off.

“I’m sorry,” Tom murmurs, half asleep.  “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” Chal says.  They rest a hand on Tom’s chest.  “You are very much attached to Chichauk.”

“I love him,” Tom mumbles.  “So much.”

“That is…  Perhaps you should go back to sleep,” Chal says.  “You are tired.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tom turns around and goes to sleep, finally. 

When he wakes up, Chal is still talking.  He lays there and listens for a little bit before opening his eyes slowly.  Tom presses his hand against Chal’s arm. 

“I thought you weren’t talking all night,” Tom asks, voice scratchy.

“You seemed distressed and in need of extra comfort,” Chal says.  “I believed that this could help.”

“Thank you,” Tom says. 

“Did you receive any quality rest?” Chal asks.

“A little bit,” Tom says.

“Good,” Chal says.  “I do not have to go to my duty station today, so if you need to rest more, that is acceptable and I will be here to talk to you.”

Tom sits up and tucks his knees under his chin.  “I don’t need any more sleep.”

“Are you alright?” Chal asks.

“Not really, but that’s okay,” Tom says. 

“I am uncertain how to comfort a human during such a time,” Chal says. 

“What would you do if I was a Volm?” Tom asks.

“This would not be a problem if you were Volm.  We do not worry about any specific comrade,” Chal says.

“Even though we’re so close?” Tom asks.  He wracks his brain for what Cochise had told him about Volm relationships.  “Even if we were broodmates?”

“Yes,” Chal says, not missing a beat.  “Broodmates are important, but it is the greater Volm mission that is most important, more important than any feeling or relationship.”

“That’s too bad,” Tom says.  “It seems empty, somehow.”

“It makes things simpler,” Chal says.  “I know that even if one of my comrades dies, there will be more to continue on their fight.” 

“It can’t be that easy,” Tom says, frowning.  “Death and dying should never be that easy.” 

“It is part of our life.  One may feel responsible for deaths one could have prevented, but there is no point in mourning every death.  There are far too many,” Chal says.

“So if Cochise had-“ Tom coughs a little to clear his throat.  “If Cochise had died, you would have been totally okay with that?  You wouldn’t mourn him?”

“It would be an unwelcome occurrence, as I enjoy having Chichauk as a superior and I know that it would cause you sorrow.  I would not mourn him, however,” Chal says.  “He would have died in service of our people.  There is no greater honor.”

“Oh…” Tom says.  “I’d really rather he stay alive.”

“As would I,” Chal says, “but his death is an acceptable loss, as is any death.”

“Wow, yeah, you’d be pretty bad at comforting a human,” Tom says, snorting a little despite himself.

“What would be a better method to help you?” Chal asks. 

Tom shrugs.  “I’m pretty terrible at this, too.  I guess you just be there for someone.  Bring them their favorite food, watch their favorite tv shows with them, and let them cry on your shoulder if they want.  You’re honestly pretty good at it, although maybe you could try being a little less brutally honest.”

“You want me to lie?” Chal says.

“Nah,” Tom says, “but you don’t always have to point out the possibility of death.  And you have to realize that death is definitely a big deal to me.”

“Noted, I will not bring up how likely death is any more than is strictly necessary.” 

“Thank you,” Tom says.  “I appreciate it.”

“But otherwise I have been suitably comforting?” Chal asks.  “You must tell me if I am not comforting.”

Tom nods.  “Yeah, you have.  I’m pretty lucky to have you as my best friend.”

Chal inclines his head.  “It was not luck, Tom.  It is chance and hard work that has allowed our friendship to be.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m glad,” Tom says, nudging them.

“As am I,” Chal says.


	31. The Drawing/The Love Letter

            “Can you give Cochise this?” Tom asks, handing Chal a folded up sheet of toilet paper.  Chal is just about to go back to work after their lunch break, but then they’re going to go see Cochise.  Tom decided to write Cochise a get better note with his crayons and toilet paper.

            “Yes, but I do not believe that he will enjoy this,” Chal says.

            “Why not?” Tom asks, kind of hurt.  He had put a lot of work into his little note and used up quite a bit of toilet paper getting it just right.

            “He cannot read English,” Chal asks.  “While I am certain he will appreciate the gesture, he will not know what you have written.”

            “Oh…” Tom says.  He hadn’t considered that possibility. 

            “We were not staying on your planet long enough for reading to be a necessity for the exploratory team,” Chal explains.  “I could read it to him, however.”

            Tom turns bright red and snatches the letter back out of their hands.  There’s some, uh, private stuff in that letter. 

            “But Cochise did reading up on human stuff, and he translated all the Volm history into English,” Tom points out. 

            “I gave him access to my translation software because he believed it was important that you have reading material and that it was also important that he research your culture,” Chal says.  “I do not know what he translated, but I do know that he used it extensively.”

            “Oh, wow,” Tom says.  “Then I have you to thank for all my reading material.”

            “Yes,” Chal says.  “And the other members of my team.”

            “Well, thank you, then.  I’ve really enjoyed your work,” Tom says. 

            Chal inclines their head.  “I am gratified to know my software has been useful.”

            “I have,” Tom says.  “And so, since my note is useless, could you come back real quick before you go see Cochise?”

            “As I told you, I can translate your writing for Chichauk,” Chal says.  “I retain the capability to read English.”

            “Some of it is private,” Tom says.  “As much as I like you, I really don’t want you reading it.”

            “I understand.  You are going to rewrite your note in order to disguise the private portions of your letter,” Chal says.

            Tom blinks.  “I was just going to draw something for him to cheer him up.”

            Chal smiles at him and squeezes his elbow. 

            “What?” Tom asks, confused.

            “You are not a Volm,” Chal says.

            Tom tilts his head.  “Yeah?”

            They’re looking at him intensely and Tom isn’t sure what he’s done.  They don’t seem mad, just thoughtful. 

            “What?” Tom says again. 

            “You are going to draw for Cochise in order to make him happier while he is injured and unhappily parted from you,” Chal says, “and that is something no Volm would ever do.”

            Tom frowns and swallows hard.  Dating an alien is hard sometimes.  “You think he won’t like it?”

            “I did not say that,” Chal says.  They make a whistling noise through their noseholes.  “I believe he will find it most gladdening.”

            “So what’s the problem?” Tom asks.

            “There is no problem,” Chal says.  “I will return before seeing Chichauk so that I may bring him your drawing.”

            “Thank you,” Tom says, deciding not to push it any further. 

            “I will see you soon,” Chal says, leaving for work.

            Tom goes back to the bathroom to grab another ream of toilet paper and his crayons.  He takes a few minutes to try to decide what to draw, especially since he’s still so bad at it.  Cochise still always appreciates his drawings. 

            He decides that he should draw him and Cochise on Earth, with bright blue sky above them.  Cochise has often remarked that he would like to have the chance to explore Tom’s planet with him.  He’s also talked about how much he loves being out under a real sky, after spending so much of his life on his people’s spaceships.

Tom works carefully in order to make sure it looks at least kind of like them.  Then he adds in a cat (Cochise had been fascinated when he found out about them) and scrawls their names in underneath.  That, he’s okay with Chal reading to him.

            It’s not well done or particularly nice, but Tom hopes that Cochise will enjoy it anyway, especially since he’s sure that Volm infirmaries are as boring as human ones. 

            There’s still some time before Chal will be back, so Tom doodles more animals in around them and smiley faces too.  He tries to make some Volm smileys, mostly by making the noses look kind of Volm-y. 

            He leaves some blank space and curls up a crayon in his little bundle of decorated toilet paper in case Cochise is bored and wants to draw.  Honestly, Tom is pretty sure that Cochise is a better artist than he is. 

            Chal comes back and Tom hands them the bundle. 

            “Tell him I miss him, okay?” Tom says.  “But that I’m not going to come see him.  Mostly that I miss him a lot, though.”

            “I will pass along your sentiments,” Chal reassures him.  “As well as your gift.”

            “Thanks, see you later,” Tom says, waving goodbye.

Tom feels weirdly tense about the whole thing.  Yeah, it’s Cochise, but Chal had made such a big deal about how involm his attempt at comfort was that it made Tom feel a little wary.

            Tom doesn’t vocalize his concerns as he watches Chal leave to go visit Cochise.  Instead, he turns on his heel to go into the bathroom.  He doesn’t need his note anymore, not if Cochise can’t read it.  So Tom flushes it down the toilet, to make sure that Chal doesn’t accidentally read it. 

            Not that Tom doesn’t trust Chal, but there’s so much that’s personal between him and Cochise in there that he doesn’t feel comfortable thinking about Chal reading it.  Plus, even though he tends to forget it, Chal is Cochise’s subordinate.  He doesn’t know all the details of Volm relationships, but he’s pretty sure that Cochise wouldn’t want his subordinate reading about their relationship like that.

            _Cochise,_

_You don’t have to worry about me trying to sneak out to see you anymore.  I miss you so much, but Chal has convinced me that I need to stay away.  It’s hard, but they pointed out that I was being dumb and stubborn.  That if I got hurt trying to see you, you’d feel terrible.  I thought about how I’d feel if the reverse happened, if you got hurt to see me, and I realized that it would be one of the worst things I could imagine.  Waiting a few more days is hard, but it’s worth it._

_But I thought that I should send you a note so you know that I’m thinking of you.  I figured that I could also write down some of the things that I’ve been feeling lately but have been too cowardly to say aloud.  Or, well, I was pretty sure that I’d mess it up if I tried to tell you._

_I love you, Cochise.  I know Volm don’t really do love, not like humans do, but it seems important for you to know because I love you so much for so many reasons.  You’re more than I ever could have expected, and I enjoy every moment we have together.  You take my breath away.  (Not literally, don’t worry) (okay, sometimes literally when you kiss me for a long time because your ability to hold your breath is incredible)  (but you always let me go so it’s okay)  Sometimes if I think about you and me too much, it seems too incredible to be real._

_Somehow it is, though.  You’re real and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me._

_When you’re better, when we’re back together, we’re going to be together in a whole new way (as long as you still want to).  I’m more than ready; I was actually going to surprise you naked the day you didn’t come home.  I don’t know if we should have some kind of alien condom or something, but, yeah, you should get ahold of whatever we need._

_I can’t wait to be with you again, and I can’t wait to be with you in a new way.  I love your tenderness, your care, and even though I’m kind of nervous about it, being with you will be fantastic because it’s you._

_If I keep going, this is just going to get dumb and mushy.  I mean, we’re already there, but I think this is a good place to stop with that._

_But I really want to thank you for telling Chal about how to take care of a human.  From some of the things they said, you’ve given them all kinds of instructions.  What’s most touching is that it wasn’t just needs, like how often I need to eat, but stuff to make me feel better when I’m upset (and it totally helped).  It was so thoughtful.  Chal doesn’t have your natural knack for humanness, but they’re pretty good and I would have been lost without them._

_Anyway, Cochise, Chal is going to be back soon and I want to make sure that this is put together in time for them.  Get well soon, Cochise._

_Love,_

_Tom_


	32. An Informal Setting/A Source of Consternation

            “Tom has instructed that I inform you that he misses you, but that he will not attempt to see you again until you are released from the infirmary,” Chal tells Cochise, standing at attention.  “I believe that he is in earnest.”

            “You may relax,” Cochise informs them.  “This is an informal setting.”

            “Of course,” Chal says, relaxing.  They hand Cochise Tom’s package.  “Your pet made this for you, in order to make you happier despite your separation and your injury.”

            Cochise takes the package delicately, as if it is made of something precious.  He opens it slowly.  A colored rectangle falls into Cochise’s lap, but Cochise seems not to notice.  Chal watches as Cochise’s face contorts into a wide smile as he takes in whatever Tom has drawn.  He traces over the lines carefully with a finger. 

            “This is most kind of him to do,” Cochise says quietly. 

            “May I tell him that you enjoyed his present?” Chal asks. 

            “Of course,” Cochise says, looking up at them.  “This is a most thoughtful gift.”

            “Tom was originally going to write you a note, but I revealed that you cannot read English and he was not comfortable with me reading his words to you.”

            Cochise frowns.  “What did he write?”

            Chal frowns in return.  What a nonsensical question.  “I did not violate his privacy, and I do not intend to unless you require me to.”  It would be unpleasant to betray their friend, but they would do so if their commanding officer required it.

            “Do not,” Cochise says.  “Tom deserves respect and privacy.”

            Chal inclines their head.  “I will not read his note to you.”

            “And how is Tom otherwise?” Cochise inquires.

            “He is upset by your absence, but he is eating and sleeping an adequate amount,” Chal says.  “Although he is incapable of resting unless I speak to him in the Volm Standardized Tongue.”

            “I am unsurprised; he finds our language soothing,” Cochise says.  “I am pleased to know that he is doing well under your care.”

            “I am honored that you have entrusted me with Tom,” Chal says. 

            “You are the only one I would trust because of our-“ Cochise coughs, “-your values.”

            “Do not worry, Tom informed me of your relationship,” Chal says. 

            Cochise tilts his head.  “What do you mean?”

            “That you have not set aside our value system.  Your relationship with Tom is fully consensual; he is very attached to you and yet is confident that if his attachment waned, you would not seek retribution, as it was months before you engaged in any kind of intimate action together,” Chal says.  They weigh their next words carefully.  “It is good to know that you still hold to our shared value system.  It was troubling when I believed you did not.”

            “He informed you of this?” Cochise asks.

            “Tom and I are… friends,” Chal says, “and, in what I am certain is human tradition, this means he trusts me.  He would not inform anyone else, even if he was capable.”

            Cochise looks at them with a sudden coolness and suddenly Chal remembers that Cochise received top honors in hand to hand combat, and that even injured, he is capable of incapacitating them.

            “Tom is not capable of informing other Volm, but you are,” Cochise says coldly.  “Do you intend to inform other Volm?”

            “I do not,” Chal says seriously.  “I wish Tom well and I would not harm him unless it was absolutely necessary for the good of our mission.”

            Cochise warms- but only fractionally.  “Inform Tom that I treasure his gift, that I miss him deeply, and I look forward to returning to him in a few days.  In addition, you may tell him that my pain is not severe and that I am healing at an acceptable rate.  All of these are true statements.”

            Chal knows a dismissal when they hear one.  “I will return to him immediately.”

            They leave and walk slowly back to Tom and Cochise’s quarters to retrieve Tom.  Chal’s discussion with Cochise had been off putting in a way that Chal wishes to think through before the distraction of Tom.  Cochise’s protective feelings towards Tom are somewhat understandable as he is in Cochise’s care, and Chal shares them to a certain extent. 

            That Cochise did not warm to Chal after they assured him that they had no desire to inform on Cochise and Tom is what is troubling Chal.  Their answer was precisely what should have soothed Cochise. 

            It is unthinkable to consider holding any one person, particularly an alien, particularly an alien with no use beyond one Volm’s personal comfort, above the greater Volm mission.  There is nothing more important.

            Chal enjoys Tom’s company and would never needlessly do him harm.  If instructed by a superior who outranked Cochise, however, Chal would have no choice but to comply.  Their duty comes first.

            For Chal to think that Cochise may not share this view is insulting enough that Cochise could demote them if he knew and desired.  And yet, it seems that Cochise may hold such a view.  Chal is uncertain what Cochise would do if he was required to injure Tom for the greater good. 

            “Chal?” Tom’s voice jolts them out of their reverie.  They must have opened the door without thinking, and now they are looking into Tom’s troubled face.  “Chal, is something wrong with Cochise?”

            Chal takes a brief second to collect themself.  “There is nothing wrong with Chichauk, do not worry.  He enjoyed your gift immensely.”

            Tom beams at them.  “Really?  You’re sure?”

            “He told me to inform you that he treasures it immensely,” Chal says.  “I believe him to be in earnest.”

            Tom sighs.  “Good, I was worried.” He continues on before Chal can ask about his worry.  “How did he seem?  Was he in a lot of pain?”

            Chal leads him to his bed and has him sit down, while they take the chair.  Tom seems overemotional and Chal does not wish him to strain himself.  “His pain is not severe and he is healing at an acceptable rate.  You do not need to worry about him.”

            Tom’s eyes are wide and shining.  This is an indicator that he may begin to cry if Chal is not careful.  “Of _course_ I’m going to worry.”

            “You should also know that he misses you deeply and he looks forward to returning to you in a few days,” Chal says.

            “A few days?” Tom asks.  “Are you sure?”

            “Yes,” Chal says.

            Tom rocks back and forth.  “I guess that’s not too long.”

            “You are still upset,” Chal says. 

            Tom raises and lowers his shoulders.  “I’ll be upset until I’m with him again.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to get to hang out with you so much!  But I miss him, Chal.”

            Humans.  Or, at least, this human.  If the other members of Tom’s species are similar to him, perhaps it is for the best that they are not allied.  It would not be an easy alliance, Chal suspects. 

            “I know you do,” Chal says.  They are so useless at connecting with these human emotions of worry and fear and missing.  “I am sure you will have a momentous reunion.”

            “Yeah…” Tom says, smiling at something in the distance.

            Chal resists the urge to check behind them.  It is something Tom does commonly, and Chal has learned that frequently there is nothing there.  Tom is simply smiling at nothing. 

            “I believe we should retrieve our meal and return to my quarters,” Chal says.

            Tom nods, presumably in agreement.  He gets up and briefly squeezes Chal’s arm.  Cochise had informed Chal of this habit of Tom’s, and they are surprised to find that they do not find it objectionable. 

            “Sounds good,” Tom says.  “And I really wanna thank you for taking my present to Cochise and telling me all about how he is.  I appreciate it.  It’s good not to be completely in the dark.”

            Chal remembers that ‘being in the dark’ is an instance of figurative speech in English, but they cannot remember the exact meaning right now.  It is not relevant.

            “It was something a friend would do, and something that I could do to aid you,” Chal explains.  “As his subordinate, it also falls upon me to ensure that he is stable and healing.”

            Tom snorts and nods.  “Thank you for fulfilling your duty then.”

            “I will always fulfil my duty, Tom,” Chal says seriously.

            Tom blinks, but then begins chattering on about what he hopes they’re serving today in the commissary. 


	33. The Love/The Grave Insult

            The next day, Tom wakes up and is startled to find that he’s not alone in bed.  There’s a dip in the bed near his chest.  That hasn’t happened since him and Chal sorted out the whole talking thing.  Tom blearily opens his eyes and is surprised to see Cochise sitting next to him, watching him. 

            “Cochise?” Tom mumbles.  Maybe he’s still asleep.

            “Tom!” Cochise says, reaching down to cup his cheek. 

            Waking all the way up immediately, Tom bolts upright and wraps his arms around Cochise for the first time in far too long.  Cochise stiffens and wraps his arms around Tom in return.  Tom nuzzles his face into the crook of Cochise’s neck.

            “It is good to be reunited with you,” Cochise says softly. 

            “I’ve missed you,” Tom says.  He notices how stiff Cochise still is, so he pulls away.  “Are you okay?”

            “I am still injured,” Cochise says.  “I persuaded the doctor to allow me to leave early.”

            “Is that safe?” Tom says.

            “I am healing adequately.  I will visit the infirmary daily to ensure my healing is continuing,” Cochise says.  “I will not have access to their pain medication, but it is a worthwhile sacrifice.”

            Tom pulls back all the way.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

            “It was an acceptable level of pain.  I wished to be near you anyway,” Cochise says.

            “I’m not gonna hurt you, Cochise,” Tom says, touching his shoulder gently.  “I’ll just be careful for a few days.”

            “I have been worried about you,” Cochise says.  He runs his hand through Tom’s hair and beard.

            “Me?” Tom asks, leaning against Cochise’s hand on instinct.  “I was fine here with Chal.  I mean, yeah, I missed you, but I was safe.”

            Cochise gives him a long look that’s kind of scary in its intensity.

            “What’s wrong?” Tom asks quietly.

            “We should return to our quarters,” Cochise says.  “Chal will return soon.”

            “Where’d they go?” Tom asks, still unsettled.

            “I asked them for privacy.  I did not want an audience when you awakened,” Cochise says.

            Cochise leans forward and presses his lips against Tom’s softly.  Tom’s worries evaporate as Cochise cups his face and kisses him deeply.  He’s not sure what to do with his hands, so he places them on Cochise’s shoulders, being careful not to squeeze or press too hard. Closeness to Cochise is what he’s really missed.  This feeling of being loved, even if he knows Volm don’t really do love. 

            “I love you,” Tom murmurs when they just barely pull apart.

            Tom can feel the warm puff as Cochise breathes out hard and presses his hands just so against his cheeks.

            “You don’t have to say anything,” Tom says softly, looking up to meet Cochise’s eyes.  “I know Volm don’t really do love like humans do.  I just thought it was important that you know how I feel.”

            “We should return to our quarters,” Cochise says.  He runs his hands down Tom’s body slowly, lingering over his chest.

            “O-okay,” Tom says.

            Cochise pulls all the way away and Tom feels cold.  While he had been in earnest when he said he didn’t expect Cochise to say anything, he hadn’t expected that Cochise would just shut down completely on him.  Maybe he would pass it off as another human curiosity, but not want to not touch him at all. 

            Tom follows behind Cochise back to their quarters.  He notes the careful way that Cochise is walking.  To anyone paying the slightest attention, it’s pretty clear that Cochise is still hurting. 

It’s weird; Cochise is always a rock.  Of course, Tom had seen him hurt in the infirmary multiple times, but seeing someone in the infirmary is different.  You’re supposed to be hurting in a hospital. 

            As soon as the door slides shut behind them, Cochise rests his hand on Tom’s lower back.  Tom turns to look at him.

            “Let’s get you to bed,” Tom says, grabbing his hand and tugging him to the bed.  “You need your rest.”

            “I am not tired,” Cochise assures him as they sit down. 

            Cochise rests a hand right where Tom’s neck meets his shoulder and runs his thumb ever so carefully over his adam’s apple. 

            “I do not believe that I can fully understand the human conception of love, but I feel a strong attachment and desire for you that I believe is somewhat comparable,” Cochise sighs.  “These feelings are stronger than anything I have ever encountered.  You bring incredible happiness into my life.”

            Tom beams at him.  Cochise does return his feelings. 

            “I love you,” Tom says again, excitement creeping over him.  “How about I make you feel good, to celebrate your coming back to me?”

            “You have already made me feel wonderful, Tom.  I am…” Cochise struggles with the words.  “I am beyond what language can convey.”

            Tom tugs at Cochise’s shirt.  “I can make you feel even better.”

            “And this is a necessary part of feeling love for humans?” Cochise asks.

            Tom pauses, considers.  “No, of course not.  I’d love you just the same if you said you never wanted me to touch you like that again.  But I like the way I feel close to you, and knowing that I make you feel good.” 

            “I do not wish to engage in sexual activities tonight,” Cochise says.  “If you press on my abdomen, it will be most painful.”

            “I can make you feel good without touching your abdomen, promise,” Tom says.  “Just take your pants off.”

            “That would be an acceptable arrangement.”  Cochise stands up and pulls his pants down before sitting back on the bed. 

            “If anything feels off, tell me, alright?” Tom asks.

            “Of course,” Cochise says. 

            Tom slides to his knees and settles himself between Cochise’s legs.  He rests his hands on Cochise’s knees, massaging them gently. 

            “Tom,” Cochise says, voice trembling.

            When Tom looks up at Cochise, he expects to see arousal or anticipation.  Instead, he sees a look of horror.  Tom scoots backwards so he’s not touching Cochise, falling back onto his ass. 

            “What’s wrong?” Tom asks. 

            Cochise stands and pulls his pants up before reaching down to hold Tom’s hand.  Before Tom can blink, he’s lying in bed with Cochise, facing him.  His back is against the wall so he’s pinned between the wall and Cochise.  Normally, it’s a good place to be.

            “Cochise, please talk to me,” Tom says.

            “I am certain that the gesture means something different for humans, but for the Volm…” Cochise pauses.  “There is no equivalent term in English.”

            Tom crosses his arms and nods.  He’s curious, of course, but Cochise seems truly offended, so he doesn’t want to make Cochise talk too much.  “I won’t do it again.”

            “It is an insult that roughly means that you believe I am weak and incapable of providing for you properly,” Cochise muses.  “In my current injured state, it is an even more egregious insult.”

            “I know you already know, but I didn’t mean it like that.  It’s a way that humans have oral sex sometimes,” Tom explains.

            Cochise remains silent. 

            “You’re amazingly strong, Cochise, and you provide, like, way more than I could ever ask.  Anyone who insulted you like that would be crazy,” Tom says.  “You’re awesome.  Hands down the best person I’ve ever met.”

            “I am honored,” Cochise says.  “It was simply alarming to think even briefly that you would insult me in such a way.  If you were Volm, I would have to challenge you to a fight.”

            “Glad I’m not a Volm, then,” Tom says, only kind of meaning it.  After all, things would be easier if he was a Volm.  “I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

            “I am glad that we do not have to fight as well.  I would not wish to fight you,” Cochise says, touching his cheek.  “I would not.  I am glad that you are a human.”

            “Even though it makes things harder?  I mean, you wouldn’t have to look out for me as much,” Tom says.  And they would be able to have a family and stuff, one day.  He tries, ever so briefly, to imagine having a family with Cochise.  To imagine hatching eggs together, or whatever.  Cochise would be a good dad.

            Cochise smiles at him.  “You are who you are because you are a human.  I admire your human spirit.  I do not mind looking out for you.”

            Tom leans forward and kisses Cochise.  There’s no point in arguing or trying to point how much easier this would be if Tom wasn’t human.  He knows Cochise won’t hear of it

            “Still-“ Tom whispers, late that night when they’re curled up together in bed and he’s supposed to be falling asleep, “-it would be better.”

            The hmming, questioning noise comes from deep in Cochise’s chest.  Tom pretends to fall asleep, but he actually just lays there and holds Cochise close.  He had been so close to losing Cochise.  There’s the niggling sense that if only Tom was a Volm and not a human, he might have been able to protect him.


	34. The Infirmary/The Incident

            “When you feel better, I want to learn self-defense again,” Tom says the next afternoon. 

            “What?” Cochise asks.

            “I know we dropped it because I was terrible at it, but I want to learn how to fight,” Tom says. 

            “Did someone hurt you while I was injured?  Or threaten you?  Is this why you desire to learn to defend yourself?” Cochise asks seriously. 

            Tom shakes his head.  “No, nothing like that.  I just think I should know that kind of stuff.”

            “I am concerned; you did not seem to enjoy our last attempts at teaching you to defend yourself,” Cochise points out.

            “That was a while ago,” Tom says. 

            Cochise looks concerned, but he inclines his head.  “I will teach you, then.  When I am better.”

            “Speaking of better, when are you going to the infirmary?” Tom asks.

            Cochise stiffens.  “I am not certain that I am returning to the infirmary.”

            “Yes you are!” Tom says.  “You’re still hurt, Cochise, and you need to be checked over.”

            “Do not worry,” Cochise says.

            Tom stands up and crosses his arms.  “Lets go.”

            “What?” Cochise asks.

            “You’re going to the infirmary and I’m going with you to make sure you go,” Tom says. 

            “Tom, I am not taking you with me to the infirmary,” Cochise says.

            “And why not?” Tom says.

            “Because I do not want you in the infirmary when not necessary,” Cochise says. 

            “I won’t touch anything, promise,” Tom says, bristling a little.  He’s an adult and he’s been in the infirmary before.  “I just want to make sure you get checked over.  You said you’d have to go back daily, and now you won’t go.  Not acceptable.”

            Cochise sighs deeply and hangs his head.  “I will go to the infirmary, but you must remain here.” 

            “I won’t do anything to embarrass you,” Tom says.  “I want to make sure you’re healthy is all.”

            “Do not even make eye contact with any other Volm,” Cochise says. 

            Tom perks up.  “I won’t.  I’ll have eyes only for you!”  He pretends to swoon.

            Cochise grasps his shoulder and looks at him hard.  “It is important that you do not look at anyone, especially when we are in the infirmary.” 

            “Okay,” Tom says with equal seriousness.  “I didn’t mean to be flippant.”

            “Then you may accompany me to the infirmary if it will make you feel better,” Cochise says. 

            Tom falls in line behind Cochise as they walk to the infirmary.  He stares so hard that everything else around him seems to disappear.  If it’s so important to Cochise, it must be important. 

            When they get to the infirmary, Tom watches Cochise intensely.  Cochise has pointed him to a corner out of the way, where they’re both in sight of each other.  He looks stiff and uncomfortable, refusing to look at Tom directly.  Tom wants to reach out and comfort him as the doctor pokes and prods and scans him, but he’s too far away.  After how intense Cochise was about the not looking, Tom is hesitant to move from where Cochise directed him unless it was clear that the doctor was hurting Cochise needlessly. 

            Cochise remains stiff and unhappy throughout the entire examination.  Tom wonders if he’d understand what was happening if he understood the Volm language.  They don’t speak that much, though, so maybe not.  But Cochise’s voice is tense and choppy whenever they do speak.  Tom would think it was the language, except Cochise never sounds so choppy when he’s speaking to Chal. 

Maybe it’s pain.  It seems like something else.

            On their way back from the infirmary, Tom sees another alien for the first time, following behind another Volm.  They look almost like a short emu, except with a mouse-ish mouth and bright pink feathers.  Tom tries not to stare at them, but then he learns why Cochise has been so intent on keeping him away from other Volm.

            The alien makes a squawking noise and the other Volm pokes them with a stick that makes the alien seize and collapse.  The other Volm kicks at them until they stand.  Each kick makes Tom start.  He remembers being in that position viscerally. 

            Tom pulls on Cochise’s clothing in horror.  “You have to do something,” he hisses.

            Cochise turns and looks at him, shaking his head marginally.  “We must move on, now.”

            “But Cochise, that Volm is hurting them,” Tom says quietly.  “You can’t just let that happen.”

            “There is nothing I can do.  A Volm may discipline their pet how they wish.  I could only intervene if their pet was misbehaving and the Volm was not providing sufficient discipline,” Cochise says.  “That is not what is happening.”

            Tom looks up at him pleadingly.  “You have to.  They’re hurting them.”

            The other Volm notices them and comes to talk to Cochise.  They gesture at Tom, and Tom realizes the other Volm is confronting Cochise about him.  Cochise subtly puts himself between Tom and the other Volm.  Tom is glad as he shrinks behind Cochise.

            Cochise grabs him and pulls him along by the arm roughly.  He’s never known Cochise to be rough.  “I am sorry!”  Cochise says and it sounds like he’s scolding Tom.  “But I must pretend to be upset with you!”

            Tom just nods and stumbles along with Cochise.  He’s too stunned by this sudden and rough turn of events to even think to shove Cochise off, not that he ever would; it would hurt Cochise.  They make it right back to their room and Tom realizes that he’s shaking hard.

            “The doctor said you were alright, right?  It’s going to be okay, right?” Tom says, fighting and failing to get the tremble out of his voice.  “You’re getting better, right?”  He knows how to say sentences without making them into questions, right?

            “I am fine,” Cochise says, guiding him to the bed.  “How are you?”

            “Does that happen a lot?” Tom asks.  He can’t look at Cochise right now, so he curls up into a little ball.

            “For some,” Cochise says.  He’s sitting next to Tom, but he feels very far away.

            “And you just let it happen?  How could you?” Tom asks.

            “There is nothing I can do,” Cochise says.  “I do not make policy.  I am too young to even think of it.”

            “Do you know if the alien is gonna be okay?” Tom asks.

            “It is likely.  That species is strong,” Cochise says. 

            Tom nods and doesn’t say anything.  He scoots away when Cochise reaches to touch him.

            “I am sorry that you had to witness that, Tom,” Cochise says.

            “I hate it,” Tom says.  “It’s not right, Cochise.”

            “I concur,” Cochise says.  “It is something that I wish was not a part of our culture.”

            Tom buries his face in his hands to hide his blank expression. 

            “And if you wanted to, you could do that to me, couldn’t you?” Tom asks.  “And no one could care.”

            “I would never harm you,” Cochise says, “but yes, I could.  In fact, I promised that I would punish you for staring when I dragged you away.  They wished to punish you themself; I said that I would do it harshly and privately.”

            Tom had, objectively, known all of this.  He had known that exploitation was happening and that Cochise could hurt him too.  But there’s something about seeing it that makes him flashback.  It bursts the bubble that had built up around him and Cochise (and Chal). 

            “It’s a whole culture of people like my dad,” Tom says quietly.  “I’m on a ship of aliens who are like my dad.  I ran as far away as humanly possible but he’s still here.  There are always people like him.”  It’s enough to make him sick.

            “Many Volm do not have pets, and there are many who disapprove of the practice,” Cochise says.  “We are not all the same.”     

            “I know, I know,” Tom says, turning to face Cochise, resting his cheek on his knees.  “And I’m not alone like I used to be.  I have you where I used to have no one.”

            Cochise scoots a little closer to him and Tom leans against him, just a little.  “I am sorry for what happened, and that you had to witness it.”

            “I’m okay.  I’m okay.”  If he repeats it enough, it’ll be true.

            “If I could change the situation, I would.  All I can do is keep you safe,” Cochise says.

            “Is hugging me going to hurt you?” Tom asks.

            Cochise scoots behind him, holds him tightly.  Tom can feel Cochise shaking behind him.  A sense of satisfaction washes over Tom; he’s not the only one truly horrified, truly upset by the encounter they had earlier.  He wants to turn to face Cochise, but he’s too worried about hurting him to move.

            Tom lets Cochise hold him together, and together they stop shaking so badly.


	35. The Distance/The Historical Method of Therapy

            It’s a rough and quiet couple days.  Tom doesn’t ask to go to the infirmary with Cochise; he doesn’t want to go anywhere.  Maybe Cochise goes to the infirmary, maybe he doesn’t, but every day, he leaves briefly and comes back to tell Tom that the doctor said he is healing at an acceptable rate.

            Tom tends to believe him.  There’s a lot of stuff that Tom can take, but Cochise being a liar isn’t one of them.

            For the first time since he’s arrived, Tom feels jumpy.  It’s not a pleasant feeling, even if it is a familiar one.  He feels so stupid over it, as long as Cochise is here, no one can hurt him. 

            Nights are the worst, though.  Tom tosses and turns, which he knows must be aggravating for Cochise, especially with his injuries.  Cochise doesn’t say anything.  Tom knows he’s having nightmares, but he can’t quite remember what they’re about.  It doesn’t really matter; he can guess.

            One night, he’s shaken awake.  Tom is sweaty and his heart so beating painfully hard that he feels it in his head and he bolts away from whoever is touching him.  Touches bring pain.

            “Tom, it is Cochise.  You are here, with me, and you are safe.”

            Tom opens his eyes and sees Cochise looming over him.  He looks scared, even in the dim light. 

            “What happened?” Tom asks.  He pushes himself back towards Cochise, shaking again.  Cochise is safe.

            “You were yelling, asking for it to stop.  You did not specify what ‘it’ was,” Cochise says softly.  “I believed that waking you up was the best course of action, even though I dislike disturbing your rest.”

            “Yeah, thanks,” Tom says.  His arms are wrapped tightly around Cochise and Cochise’s arms are wrapped tightly around him.  “I’m sorry.”

            “You have nothing to apologize for,” Cochise says, voice tight.  “I was worried.”

            “I think I was having another nightmare,” Tom says.

            “You are still upset by what you witnessed,” Cochise says. 

            “Of course!  Aren’t you?” Tom immediately regrets asking the question; he doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer.

            “In a way, I am,” Cochise says.  “But the life of a Volm is violent.  It is inescapable.  Violence should not bother us.”

            “You guys are real big on the violence and death, aren’t you?” Tom says, rhetorically. 

            But, of course, Cochise doesn’t get rhetorical questions.  “We are now.”  He sounds mournful.  “I am sorry that I am not responding in an acceptable manner.  I do not know how to comfort you.”

            “I just… never understood how people could stand by and let stuff like that happen,” Tom says.

            “And now I am standing by and allowing it to happen,” Cochise says.  “I am like the humans who allowed your abuse to continue.”

            Tom shrugs as best he can with Cochise’s arms around him.  “I mean, I know it’s not totally the same.  You could face serious repercussions from your superiors, but there was a whole freaking agency on Earth that was supposed to stop stuff like my dad.”

            “Perhaps, one day we will have such an agency, but an effective one,” Cochise says. 

            Tom shifts so he can look at Cochise.  “You won’t.  I’ve read your history.  You guys didn’t do much change before the war; your culture has only gotten less changeable in the time since.  Like, you had a rapid transformation when you guys were attacked, another rapid change when you guys had to leave your planet, but since then?  Nope.  Everything has remained incredibly static for the last almost 500 years.”

            “We have had many changes,” Cochise says.  “We now have thirteen members on the council that comprises our governing body, whereas we used to have only four.” 

            “That’s not much of a change, Cochise.  That’s like…” Tom shakes his head.  “My country came into existence way after you guys were forced off your planet, and we’ve had so many more changes to our government system.  Our constitution has twenty six amendments.  That’s just one government.”

            “How do you remain stable with such constant change?” Cochise asks.

            “We don’t,” Tom says honestly.  “Regimes rise and fall, rulers change.  It’s how the world works.”

            “That is impossible to sustain,” Cochise says.

            “I think that the Volm’s static society is impossible to sustain,” Tom says.  “If you don’t change, you can’t adapt.”

            Cochise sits up.  “You believe our culture is unsustainable?”

            Tom sits up too, sitting cross legged on the bed.  “Yeah!  Institutions that don’t change are doomed to be destroyed.  The French monarchy, for example- a lot of monarchies, actually.”

            “It is those that change too much that are destroyed,” Cochise says.  “We must not lose that which makes us Volm.  There is no point in winning if we are not ourselves.”

            “But what about the bad stuff?” Tom asks. 

            “We do not think about such things,” Cochise says.

            “But you do, Cochise!”  Tom exclaims.  “You thought the system was messed up even before I was here.  You and Chal both!”

            “That is different,” Cochise says. 

            “Why?  How?” Tom says.

            Cochise struggles with an answer. 

            Tom leans forward and kisses him for the first time in too long.  He’s not shaking or unsteady anymore.  It’s stupid, but talking over history makes him feel better.

            “It’s okay, Cochise,” Tom says.  “I don’t need an answer.”

            Cochise rests his hands on Tom’s shoulders.  “I cannot give you one.”

            Tom presses his hands against Cochise’s.  It’s an awkward position, but it feels good.  They sit there together for a while. 

            “I’m ready to have sex, you know.  Like, beyond what we’ve been doing.  Like, all the way,” Tom says, eventually.  “I was before you got hurt; I was gonna surprise you.”

            Cochise tilts his head.  “Are you certain?”

            “Yeah,” Tom says.  “I’ve thought about it a lot.  I mean, not right at this minute, but soon.”

            “And you decided to inform me now?” Cochise asks. 

            “Yes,” Tom says.  “I feel better now.  We’re having a weird night anyway.  Seemed like a good time.”

            “Why would our ‘weird night’ have anything to do with it?  Can humans only discuss sexual intercourse when things are weird?” Cochise asks. 

            “I mean, it tends to make things kind of weird, at least at first.  I think,” Tom says.

            “I do not find it weird.  I did find it strange that you decided to inform me after our prior conversation,” Cochise says.  “I have been studying human sexual customs, and it did not seem like a sexual conversation.”

            “It wasn’t sexy,” Tom says.  “But I was also feeling comfortable and that’s even better.”

            “I am glad you feel comfortable again,” Cochise says. 

            “I do,” Tom says.  “It’s dumb, but talking about history always helps put things into perspective.  Makes me feel better.  Even if it doesn’t really fix anything.”

            Cochise smiles at him, soft and tender, and Tom’s heart gives a big thud in his chest.  “I care so much for you.  You are an incredible creature.”

            “I love you, too,” Tom says, smiling back at him.


	36. The Identities/The Scars

            “You’re sure we won’t need a condom or anything?” Tom asks, cross legged on the bed.

            “We do not have condoms.  They would serve no purpose for us,” Cochise says.  “We do not attempt to inhibit birth, and we have a strong resistance to all illnesses.”

            “Okay, maybe you do, but humans still get STDs,” Tom says.  “I really, really don’t want an alien STD.”

            “I do not have any diseases that I could infect you with,” Cochise says. 

            “And there’s nothing that you guys might find benign that could hurt me?” Tom asks.

            “No,” Cochise says.  “There is very little risk to interspecies sex.”

            “Really?” Tom asks. 

            “Yes.  I would not risk your health, Tom.  We have studied the subject extensively,” Cochise says the last sentence hesitantly.  They had had their discussion on Volm culture a few days ago, and while Cochise believes that Tom has recovered from the incident, it is not something he is eager to revisit.  Cochise had hoped that Tom would never be exposed to that kind of cruelty on a Volm ship, and he had failed in that duty.

            “Okay,” Tom says, smiling.  “I trust you.”

            “I am gladdened to hear that, Tom,” Cochise says.  “I am proud to have your trust.”

            Tom snorts and blushes.  “Always, Cochise.  No matter what happens, you’ll always have my trust.”

“Is there a human ritual around engaging in intercourse for the first time that I should be aware of?  It is something you must prepare for; I want to ensure that you enjoy it and are fulfilled by it,” Cochise says.  He had attempted to make sense of human mating rituals, but it had proved largely in vain.

            “I guess that I want you to be fully healed first off, so I won’t be worrying about hurting you the entire time.  And I want you to be able to enjoy it as well!” Tom says.

            “Do you have other needs?” Cochise says.  He worries that Tom will not fully express his needs to him.  Oftentimes, Tom does not consider his own needs, which Cochise finds alarming.  He is certain that Tom would not demand food if Cochise failed to provide it to him.

            “Make sure that we have time to do it,” Tom says.  “I don’t want us to have to rush it.”

            “I will ensure that we do it when we have an adequate amount of time,” Cochise says.  “I will also ensure that we do it when you are not tired.”

            “Thanks, Cochise,” Tom says.  “I mean, I know there are probably going to be weird awkward parts, but I still want it to be enjoyable.”

            “I am certain that it will be enjoyable, as it will be with you,” Cochise says earnestly.  While he has engaged in various forms of what Tom would consider sex before, including intercourse, he believes that none of his other experiences will compare to his future intercourse with Tom.

            “That’s a good point,” Tom says.  “It’s going to be amazing.  Is there anything Volm-y I can do for you?”

            “The only ‘Volm-y’ thing is to procreate, and that is something that we cannot do together,” Cochise says.

            “Oh,” Tom says.  “I know it’s not my fault, but I’m sorry that we won’t be able to procreate.”

            “It is not something that you need to apologize for,” Cochise says sincerely.  It would be preferable to create offspring with Tom, but Cochise does not wish Tom to feel poorly over his human nature.  “I still feel an incredible amount of closeness from our interactions.”

            “You’d make a good dad, though,” Tom blurts out.  Cochise has no reaction to that, and Tom continues on.  “I mean, I know that you don’t do families like humans do, but if you did, you’d be a good dad.”

            “I would make an insufficient parent, I am certain.  I do not have the proper training,” Cochise says, unsteady.  “I am a warrior and that is it.”

            “That’s not it, Cochise!  You’re not just one thing.  You’re also a friend and a lover and a secret rebel,” Tom says.  “You’re so many things, and you’re so good at them.  And Dad would be another thing you’d be good at.”

            “I do not know how to respond to such a compliment,” Cochise says.  He should not have an identity outside his identity outside his identity as a Volm warrior.  It is not necessary; it is frowned upon.  And yet.  Cochise does not wish to reject this labeling or these identities.  He enjoys them and he embraces them.  “It is impossible to believe.”

            “I believe it,” Tom says. 

            “You are most strange sometimes, Tom,” Cochise says for failure of finding sufficient other words to say.

            Tom snorts.  “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

            “As you should,” Cochise assures him.  He reaches forward and brushes away a strand of Tom’s ever growing hair.  “I wish we were capable of having offspring together.  You would also make a wonderful parent.”

            It is not how having offspring would work between them- Volm offspring are sent so far away- but Cochise is willing to indulge this fantasy for a little bit.  Parenting with Tom is a pleasant fantasy.

            Tom blushes, shakes his head.  “I don’t… I’m not…”  He refuses to look at Cochise and he stares at his own hands instead.  “I don’t think I’d be a good parent.”

            Cochise squints at him.  “Why not?”

            “I’ve always been scared, always thought I’d hurt my kid,” Tom says stiffly.  “I don’t wanna risk that.  I don’t wanna become that.”

            Cochise gently places his fingers under Tom’s chin and eases his head so Tom is looking at him.  He is surprised to see the amount of conflict and sadness that his face is expressing.  Unacceptable.  “You would not hurt your offspring,” Cochise keeps his voice low.  “I do not believe you are capable of such an act.” 

            “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” Tom says, sighing.

            “I am not,” Cochise says, sliding his hand to press against Tom’s cheek.  “There is much that you are not suited for.  From what I have learned of it, I do not believe human parenting is one of these things.”

            Tom smiles, just a little, at him.  “And what am I not suited for?”

            “You would not be a good Volm warrior, nor a good Volm doctor.  You do not have the temperament or emotional fortification necessary to be effective in these positions,” Cochise says.  “You would be a poor caretaker of older Volm hatchlings, as your combat skills are lacking and I believe you would be unwilling to impart our ways to them; although, I believe you would be excellent at watching over the eggs and the vulnerable newly hatched hatchlings.”

            “So, it’s a good thing that I’m not a Volm, huh?” Tom says.

            “It is indeed,” Cochise says.  “You are an exquisite human, but you would make a poor Volm.”

            “I think you’d make a pretty decent human, mostly because there are all kinds of people,” Tom says.

            Cochise is certain that Tom only believes thusly because he has not witnessed him fighting.  He believes that Tom would find him distasteful in that state.  “And you are among the best of them, I am certain.”

            Tom’s face reddens and warms under his hand.  “You don’t even know any other humans.”

            “I do not need to,” Cochise says with certainty. 

            “You’re ridiculous,” Tom says.

            “Volm are not ridiculous,” Cochise says firmly. 

            Tom turns his head to kiss his hand, lips soft.  “Maybe they’re not, but you are.”

            “Are you implying that I am not Volm?” Cochise asks.

            “Of course you’re a Volm.  But you’re different,” Tom says.  “And I know, I know, you guys don’t do differences, but you’re different anyway.” 

            “I should be offended,” Cochise says.

            “But you’re not, are you?” Tom asks.

            “I am not,” Cochise says.  However, he is troubled by his difference.  And by his lack offense when Tom points out his difference.

            “And I love you for it,” Tom says.

            “Perhaps that is why I am not offended,” Cochise says.  Difference may be looked down upon, but at least it has allowed him to have Tom’s human love.

            Tom strokes at Cochise’s chest and looks up at him coyly.  “So, uh, how long do you think it’ll be until you’re feeling better?  I mean, I don’t want to rush you, or anything, but…”

            “I am also eager to engage in intercourse with you,” Cochise says.  “The doctor will clear me to return to my duty station in a day or two.”

            “So you’re feeling mostly better already?” Tom asks.

            “I am mostly healed.  I am in very little pain,” Cochise says.  He knows that Tom often worries about the amount of pain he is in. 

            “Good,” Tom says.  “Is there, uh, any scarring?  I don’t want you to be self-conscious or anything.”

            Cochise tilts his head.  “Scarring?”

            “When your skin doesn’t heal all the way after an injury,” Tom says.  “It leaves discolorations and bumps and stuff.  Scars.”

            “We do not scar,” Cochise says.  “Our healing process is complete.”

            “Okay,” Tom says, nodding and making a strange popping noise with his mouth. 

            “Tom, do you have scars?” Cochise asks, uncertain if this is an incorrect question to ask. 

            Tom keeps nodding and crosses his arms in a gesture that Cochise has learned means he is upset.  “You haven’t noticed?”

            “I have not seen many naked humans; I believed the marks occurred naturally,” Cochise explains. 

            “No, they don’t,” Tom says quietly. 

It is clear to Cochise that this is another source of shame for Tom.  He does not understand why humans possess so much shame.  Perhaps it is only Tom, but Cochise suspects not.  Or perhaps Cochise only wishes that Tom does not possess unique feelings of shame.

“They are signs that you have done battle and survived,” Cochise says.  “If Volm received scars, I am certain that they would be a source of pride.”

Tom shakes his head and looks down at folded arms.  “I didn’t do battle, Cochise.  It’s not the same.”

“It was not traditional battle, but from what I am aware of, it was as harrowing as any battle could be.  And you survived,” Cochise says.  “That is the most important thing.”

            Tom sighs and seems to become smaller somehow. 

            “I am sorry if I caused you discomfort or pain while touching you.  I was unaware of what they are,” Cochise says. 

            “They don’t hurt.  They just are,” Tom says. 

            Cochise holds the hem of Tom’s shirt.  “May I?”

            “I guess,” Tom says. 

            Cochise pulls off Tom’s shirt and turns him so Cochise can see his back.  He traces a finger along the large scar on Tom’s lower back that runs parallel to his spine.  From there, Cochsie runs his finger along a red line that starts on his back and disappears to Tom’s front.

            Tom turns with Cochise’s finger so they’re face to face.  Cochise rests his hands on Tom’s shoulders and brushes his thumbs over the collection of red dots around his collarbone. 

            “These tannish spots, are they scars, too?” Cochise asks, pressing his finger against one to indicate what he means.

            Tom shakes his head.  “They’re freckles.  And the darker ones are birthmarks.  Those are natural.” 

            Cochise nods to signal his understanding and returns to cataloguing the actual scars with his fingers.

            “Why are you doing this?” Tom asks partway through the process, voice trembling.

            Cochise pauses, withdraws his hands, and looks up at Tom.  “You assured me that you did not wish for me to feel self-conscious over scarring I may possess.  I suspect that this is because you are self-conscious, particularly as I know the source of your scarring.  It is my hope that if I witness these scars and determine that I find you no less exquisite or desirable because of them, you will cease to feel self-conscious.”

            Tom nods.

            “May I continue?” Cochise asks.

            Tom shimmies out of his pants and then nods again. 

            Cochise inclines his head in gratitude and traces the short scar on Tom’s arm.  There are a great many scars there, so Cochise dedicates significant time to finding them all.  He also seeks out all of the scarring on Tom’s legs, taking the hint of him removing his pants.  For once, he is not distracted by the tactile pleasure of Tom’s hairy body.

            When he is finished with his task, he lays down and pulls Tom on top of him.  It is still slightly painful, but his pain is irrelevant.  He splays his hands along Tom’s back, hoping to make him feel secure.

            “I have determined that my feelings are undiminished by my findings,” Cochise says.  “Your desirability and physical attractiveness remain the same.”

            Tom nods, hair scratching Cochise’s chest.

            “If you experience such feeling in the future, do not hesitate to inform me,” Cochise says.  He wonders if Tom had been feeling badly about himself the entirety of their time together.

            “It doesn’t just go away,” Tom whispers.  “The shame doesn’t just go away.”

            “I do not know how to help with shame around physical appearance,” Cochise confesses.  “I can only express to you my own feelings.”

             “It’s not really about physical appearance.  It’s about why I have them, you know?  If I had fallen off a bike and scraped my leg, it’d be okay,” Tom says.  “Instead, my dad threw me down some stairs and broke my leg so bad it broke the skin.”

            “I have already informed you that, to me as a Volm, they demonstrate your strength and perseverance.  Their source is nothing to be ashamed of,” Cochise says.

            Tom makes a humming noise.  “You really think a Volm wouldn’t be ashamed?  It seems like you guys would say I should have fought him off.”

            Cochise cards a hand through Tom’s hair, as he tends to do when deep in thought and in close proximity to Tom.   He does not wish to give an unthoughtful answer.  “Our hatchlings do not fight.  They learn how and they occasionally fight with each other, but we do not expect them to fight battles.  In addition, it would be unfair to expect a small hatchling to fight a full grown and fully trained Volm.”

            “There’s not, like, shame in losing, even against a stronger opponent?” Tom asks.

            “I do not accept the premise that you lost,” Cochise says.  “You are alive, and you are a good person when you could have become bitter.”

            “Okay, but accept the premise for a second.  Say I did lose,” Tom says quietly.  “What then?”

            “It is impossible for a force to win every battle, and plaguing one’s self with shame over an inevitability hurts morale and serves no purpose,” Cochise says.  “The only losses to be ashamed of are those which you do not learn from or those which could have been prevented.  You could not have prevented what happened to you, Tom.”

            Tom looks at him hard, eyes shining, and Cochise worries that he has stated incorrect or offensive to human sensibilities.  He is about to apologize when Tom buries his face in Cochise’s neck and begins to shake again.  Cochise holds him tighter and kisses the top of his head.

            Cochise does not enjoy violence.  He will fight and kill enemies of the Volm when it is necessary, and he will do so without remorse.  But he had never imagined hurting anyone who was not an Espheni or a collaborator.  Now, however, he feels a desire to injure someone who is a noncombatant.  Given the chance, Cochise would gladly eliminate Tom’s father from existence, for making Tom feel this way and for all of the things Cochise is not even aware of. 


	37. The Surprises/The Buildup

            Tom stares at Chal, just like he has been doing for the last hour.  They had whisked him away with little explanation and now they’re both just sitting in their quarters. 

            “Do you, uh, need something?” Tom asks, kind of unnerved by the silence.

            “I do not,” Chal says.  “I have simply missed your company.”

            Tom smiles.  “I’ve missed you, too.  I’m sorry I left without saying bye, but we really had to go back to our room.”  He wants to tell Chal all about it- all about the I love you, about the bringing incredible happiness into Cochise’s life, about the strongest feelings Cochise has ever felt- but Tom knows that he can’t.  As much as Tom likes Chal, he knows he can’t share everything with them because of their military relationship with Cochise.

            “I understand,” Chal says.  “Chichauk wished to spend time with you immediately without my presence.  He missed you greatly while circumstances parted you.”

            “Yeah, something like that,” Tom says, “but I felt bad because I never got the chance to thank you.”

            “You do not have to thank me for fulfilling my duty,” Chal says.

            “You did way more than that, though!  It’s not like all you did was feed me and take me to the toilet,” Tom points out.  “You were my friend when I probably wasn’t that easy to get along with.  I’m pretty sure you didn’t have to do that.”

            “I did not,” Chal affirms. 

            “Then I’m thanking you for all of that.  It really means a lot to me,” Tom says.

            “I learned much and enjoyed your company,” Chal says. 

            “I’m glad that I wasn’t too bad to have around,” Tom says.

            “Despite your human oddities, I enjoyed your presence,” Chal says.

            “I liked being here,” Tom says.

            A beeping noise comes from somewhere and Chal gets up to respond to it.  Tom waits while Chal talks.

            “It is time to return you to your quarters,” Chal says.

            “What?” Tom asks.  “We just started talking about how much we like hanging out.”

            “It is time to return you to your quarters,” Chal repeats.

            “O-okay,” Tom says as he gets up and follows Chal.  He doesn’t know why they brought him there, but apparently their time together is done for now.

            Chal pauses at Tom’s door.  “I hope you enjoy your evening.”

            “Thanks, Chal.  You, too,” Tom says.  He wants to give Chal a hug, but he also knows how the Volm are about physical contact and Tom’s not in immense emotional turmoil, so he settles for waving at them.

            The door opens and Tom is surprised that the lights are dimmed.  He steps in slowly, not wanting to disturb Cochise if he’s asleep for some reason.

            His vision adjusts and he sees Cochise standing there in what looks like a blue ball gown.  The desk is gone, replaced by an actual table with two chairs.  The new actual table has a tablecloth, place settings, and a lit candle on it.

            “Greetings, Tom,” Cochise says, holding a hand out.

            “What’s happening?” Tom asks, grasping Cochise’s hand.

            “I studied material from your planet and determined that I have yet to take you on a proper date.  In addition, engaging in intercourse the first time is an important milestone in your culture, and I wish for you to find this a special occasion,” Cochise says. 

            “We’re having sex tonight?” Tom asks.  It’s nerve wracking but so, so exciting.

            Cochise leads him to the table and even pulls out the chair for him as Tom sits down.  “We do not have to, but the doctor has stated that my recovery is complete and you expressed a desire that we engage in intercourse when I became able.”

            “That’s great, Cochise!” Tom says as Cochise goes to a cart sitting nearby.  It gives Tom a good chance to look at Cochise’s dress: sky blue, poofy bottom, kind of shimmery with sequins.  He’s mildly impressed with how Cochise has figured out how to wear a strapless dress.

            “I found it welcome news as well, for many reasons,” Cochise says, “and I believed in celebration I should attempt to provide a proper date for you.”

            “You didn’t have to do that,” Tom says earnestly.  “I’m just happy you’re okay now.”

            “I wished to,” Cochise says.  He sets a plate of food in front of Tom and sets the other at his own seat before sitting down.  “I believe these are the foods that you have stated the highest preference for.”

            “They are,” Tom says, voice suddenly shaky.  It’s starting to set in that he’s going to have sex with Cochise.  Tonight.  He’s excited and nervous and so, so happy. 

            “Are you alright?” Cochise asks as he begins to eat.

            “Yeah,” Tom says, nodding a little too quickly.

            “If you do not wish to engage in intercourse tonight, that is, of course, acceptable.  My primary goal was celebration and ensuring I had courted you appropriately by human standards,” Cochise says.  “I do not want you to believe that I take your presence for granted.”

            “You’ve courted me plenty,” Tom says, smiling.

            “I have not,” Cochise says.  “I have read human literature.  Special dinners, ‘movies,’ ‘dancing,’ are all required for a proper human courtship.  I have dressed up in an approximation of human attire for such formal occasions to help distinguish this dinner from other dinners we have had together.  I hope it is acceptable.  There were many choices, so I decided on that which I found most aesthetically pleasing.”

            “It was an excellent choice,” Tom says.  “You look real handsome, Cochise.  Although, I am feeling kind of underdressed.”

            “As I understand it, the additional ornamentation is to attract mates,” Cochise says, “and I assure you, you require no additional ornamentation.  You are already an exquisite creature.”

            “You don’t either, Cochise!” Tom protests.  “You’re handsome and gorgeous, even without the dress.  In, like, your regular clothes.”

            Cochise looks down at himself and pulls gently at the skirt of his dress.  “I enjoy this.  It is impractical, and yet, I enjoy wearing it.”

            “You can wear it whenever you want,” Tom says. 

            “It will not detract from the specialness of this night?” Cochise asks.

            “I get the feeling that nothing could detract from the specialness tonight,” Tom says.  “You’ve got all my favorite Volm food, you got a real table and candlelight, we’re going to have sex for the first time later…  Yeah, nothing’s going to make this less special.”

            Cochise smiles at him.  “I have another surprise for you, but you must eat your dinner first.” 

            “Another surprise, hmm?  I can’t wait,” Tom says, trying to wrack his brain to figure out what it could be.

            They eat slowly, Tom enjoying the taste of his favorite foods.  He keeps glancing up to see Cochise watching him intently.  It always makes him blush and his stomach twist wonderfully.  Never could he have imagined having someone look at him like that, like he’s the most important thing that exists. 

            Tom slips his foot under Cochise’s dress and finds his leg, sliding his foot up Cochise’s calf as he looks at him coyly.  Cochise’s face starts to turn a little bluer. 

            “Humans call this playing footsie,” Tom informs Cochise.  “It’s a kinda covert way of flirting.  Like, we could do this in a crowded restaurant and nobody would know.”

            Cochise’s breathing noticeably gets harsher.  “How… intriguing.” 

            Tom runs his foot up and down Cochise’s calf slowly, doing his best to make sure that he keeps eating casually.  He pretends that he and Cochise are in the middle of a crowded restaurant.  One of the many, many great things about being with an alien is that Cochise has no idea that Tom has no idea where you’re supposed to go from here with footsie.  Do you just rub your partner’s calf over and over?  Is he supposed to go up higher?  Is there another trick?

            Cochise seems to be enjoying it either way, so Tom does his best to relax and enjoy his footsie-ing. 

            “Have you completed your meal?” Cochise asks, voice shaky.

            “Yeah!” Tom says, pulling his foot away.  “So what’s the other surprise?”

            Cochise gets up and takes their plates away.  He fiddles with something on the cart, and suddenly he’s bringing Tom a piece of chocolate cake. 

            “What is this?” Tom asks, confused.

            “Is it incorrect?  I attempted to ‘bake a cake.’  I hope you enjoy it; I do not know what it is supposed to taste like,” Cochise says.

            “You made me an Earth dessert?” Tom asks, touched.  He tries not to talk about things he misses from Earth unless it’s necessary, but, _cake_. 

            “I made an attempt.  Please, try it.  If it is unacceptable, please inform me.”

            Tom grins and nods.  He picks up the fork and takes a first bite, immediately spitting it into the napkin and coughing.  It tastes like a lemon and some kind of meat had a baby.

            “Are you okay?” Cochise asks, clearly alarmed.

            “I’m so sorry, but that’s not what cake is supposed to taste like,” Tom says, sipping his water to rinse the taste out of his mouth.

            “I apologize for this inadequate cake,” Cochise says, taking the plate away from Tom.  “I hope that you forgive me.”

            Tom gets up and leans up to kiss Cochise tenderly, arms wrapping lightly around his neck.  Cochise’s hands rest on Tom’s hips. 

            “Thank you,” Tom says softly.

            “I ruined our date,” Cochise says, “as I do not know how cake should taste.”

            Tom leans up and kisses Cochise again.  “This was an amazing date.  It was so incredible of you to try to make me something from Earth.  And you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

            “I have enjoyed our night together as well.”

            “There’s an upside to this cake being bad, you know,” Tom murmurs, looking up at Cochise with a small smile.

            “What is the upside?” Cochise asks.

            “There’s nothing between us and going to bed,” Tom says.  He takes a finger and strokes the small stretch of skin between Cochise’s noseholes. 

Cochise moans.  “I concur that this is an ‘upside.’  Please, help me get out of my dress.”


	38. The Sex Scene/The Volm Penis in Action

# 

            Tom steps behind Cochise, pressing his lips to the nape of Cochise’s neck briefly.  He finds the zipper and pulls it down before Cochise sets it neatly over his chair.  Tom watches, admiring Cochise’s lithe form and how his fingers nimbly run over the fabric. 

            Cochise turns back to Tom, who shivers as Cochise walks towards him slowly.  “I believe you are wearing too many articles of clothing for our planned activity.”

            “Right,” Tom says, pulling his shirt off.

            When Tom reaches for the waistband of his pants, Cochise’s hands are on his.  “Please, allow me.”  He kisses Tom’s bare shoulder and then slips his hands into Tom’s pants.  Cochise rests his hands on Tom’s ass for a moment before pushing his pants down.

            Tom steps out of them, kicking them to the side.  He tries not to yelp as Cochise scoops him up with incredible ease. 

            “Do you wish to engage in intercourse on our bed?” Cochise asks.  “Or on some other surface?”

            Tom grins and kisses him again.  He doesn’t have to worry about Cochise wearing out; Cochise has amazing endurance in pretty much every way.  They could stand there, just kissing each other with Tom being held comfortably by Cochise, for hours. 

            “Bed sounds good,” Tom finally says, barely pulling away.

            Cochise carries him to bed and sets him down gently.  His hands cup Tom’s face and Cochise kisses him firmly.

            Realizing the advantage of his position, Tom shifts just a little.  With that adjustment, his nose brushes over the skin between Cochise’s noseholes. 

            Cochise pushes Tom gently and Tom scoots back and lays down.  He climbs on top of Tom to keep kissing him; Tom deepens the kiss, flicking his tongue against Cochise’s mouth. 

            There’s very little that Tom likes more than the feeling of Cochise on top of him.  His back is pressed against their soft bed and his front is pressed against Cochise’s hard, muscular body.  Everything becomes Cochise, especially since Tom can feel the ridges and grooves of Cochise’s body against his whole front.  He’s literally between Tom and the rest of the world.

            Plus, from here, Tom can run his fingers over Cochise’s body.  He’s traced the ridges plenty of times before, but Tom never gets tired of it.  No matter what, it always feels new and different. 

            Tom sees no need to rush their lovemaking, so he lays there for a while.  He takes the time to stroke over the parts of Cochise he knows are most tender- right above his hipbone, right along the nape of his neck, that one spot on his back. 

            Cochise shakes and groans above him.  He moves his lips to Tom’s cheek, running his slick tongue along his cheekbone.  At first, Tom had found how much Cochise likes to use his tongue a little gross, but he now he likes it. 

            “You are so attractive,” Cochise mumbles.  His tongue slides along the shell of Tom’s ear.  “And you taste delicious.”

            Tom moans.  “Your tongue…” is pretty much the only coherent thing he can say.  He knows that Cochise thinks that giving a blowjob would be gross, so he’s never going to ask about it, but Tom can imagine how incredible it’d feel to have that tongue on his dick. 

            “I am glad you enjoy it,” Cochise says.  He pulls back just a bit and smiles at Tom before flicking his tongue over the tip of Tom’s nose.

            Tom snorts and giggles, rubbing his nose.  “You know that tickles!”

            “And your reaction is most endearing,” Cochise says, flicking again and getting the same result.  

            “I love you,” Tom says. 

            Tom pushes on Cochise’s shoulder and Cochise acquiesces, turning on his back.  They had worked out the signal early on in their relationship, since Tom can’t actually push Cochise onto his back.  Damn strong alien lover.

            Mounting Cochise, Tom takes a full minute to look down at him.  Normally, he’s stoic and unmovable, but now, it seems like Cochise can’t stop moving.  His fingers are drumming against the bed, his whole upper body is shaking and twisting, and tongue keeps fliting in and out of his mouth.  His pupils have narrowed to a pinpoint and the irises have turned more golden somehow. 

            Tom mimics Cochise from earlier and leans down to flick his tongue over where Cochise’s nose would be.  “Your reaction isn’t quite as endearing, but it is hot,” Tom says as Cochise groans and presses himself back into the bed. 

            “I desire you so much.  I did not believe that being near someone else could be this pleasurable,” Cochise says.  His voice drops low as he reaches out to grasp Tom’s cock.  “I want to have you inside of me.”

            It doesn’t take long for Tom to get hard, and then he finds himself kneeling between Cochise’s legs, looking at the opening to his pouch. 

            “I can, uh, just put it in, right?” Tom asks.  “I won’t hurt you or anything?”

            “My pouch is quite spacious.  Do not worry about injuring me,” Cochise says, brushing his hand along Tom’s face. 

            Tom grasps himself and lines himself up with Cochise’s pouch.  He looks up at Cochise for a final confirmation. 

            Cochise inclines his head.  “Please.”

            Moving slowly, Tom pushes into Cochise’s pouch.  Tom exhales hard at the sensation of Cochise around him.  It seems like Cochise’s pouch is just as mobile as the rest of him.  It moves around him in a way that feels very, very good and makes his breath hitch.

            “You are doing well,” Cochise says in a strained voice.  “More, please.”

            Tom keeps moving into Cochise, trying to remember to keep breathing evenly.  He can’t believe that this feels so good, he can’t believe that he’s with Cochise, and he can’t believe this is going so smoothly.

            Something starts to wrap around his dick and Tom’s eyes go wide as he pulls out of Cochise, falling back to the other side of the bed.

            Cochise bolts upright.  “Are you okay?  Did I do something to hurt you?”

            “There’s something in your pouch,” Tom hisses, heart pounding real hard.  “I think it tried to eat my dick.”

            “It is my ‘Volm penis.’  It inverts and envelops when attempting to mate.  I assure you, it will not eat your penis, unless this is another human idiom,” Cochise says.  “I did not believe this would occur.”

            Tom scoots so he’s leaning against Cochise, who automatically wraps his arms around him. 

            “What’s your Volm penis doing wrapping around my human penis?” Tom asks.

            Cochise rubs Tom’s chest gently.  “It ensures that all of your genetic material enters my reproductive system properly.”

            “Your Volm penis knows that we’re not having a kid, right?” Tom says, head resting on Cochise’s shoulder.

            “I apologize.  I had not realized that it responded to aliens in such a way.  Our instructors informed us that it only occurred when engaging in intercourse with other Volm.”

            And these are apparently the Volm who are sure that he’s not gonna get an alien STD from Cochise.  Considering that his penis is covered in some kind of slime from Cochise’s pouch, Tom is pretty sure he’s already got an STD if he’s gonna get one.

            “But having a human penis in there won’t hurt you, right?” Tom asks.

            “I do not believe so,” Cochise says.  “I found it pleasant, in the few seconds before you removed yourself.  I think that my body is responding to my desire to reproduce with you, specifically, even if it is an impossibility.”

            Tom blushes hard.  That’s so sweet, even if it did mean something tried to eat his dick.  “Then we should try again.  I promise not to freak out this time.”

            “Are you certain you wish to?” Cochise asks.  “You did not respond well, and I am not certain that I can stop my Volm penis from trying to mate with you.  We can engage in other activities.”

            “I want to, Cochise.  I was just startled because I was not expecting something to touch my dick once I was in your pouch,” Tom says.  “I was, uh, kind of worried you had some kind of small creature in there.” 

            “No creature, only my Volm penis,” Cochise says. 

            Tom gets out of Cochise’s lap and Cochise lays back down, just propping himself up on his elbows. 

            “Don’t worry about trying to stop your Volm penis,” Tom says.  He wants Cochise to concentrate on his own pleasure, not on anything else.

            “If you are certain,” Cochise says.  He looks down at Tom’s dick.  “I believe you have lost your erection.”

            “Oh, oops,” Tom says.  He reaches down and strokes himself to full hardness. 

            Cochise trails a finger down Tom’s body slowly, from the hollow of his throat down to his navel.  His tender finger, skirting over Tom’s sensitive body, sends a rush of blood to Tom’s groin that speeds up the process. 

            “You have found your always impressive erection,” Cochise says.

            Tom grins and kisses Cochise as he slides back into Cochise’s pouch.  This time, Tom is ready when something starts to wrap around his dick. 

Instinctively, Tom thrusts into Cochise’s Volm penis, reaching down to stroke the sensitive bumps outside his pouch at the same time, and Cochise lets out some kind of screech, body going rigid.  Tom stops moving altogether.

            “Cochise?” Tom asks, alarmed.

            Cochise’s elbows slip out from underneath him and he falls back flat onto the bed.

            “Cochise!” Tom yells, tapping his face gently.  Of course, Cochise getting hurt would always be bad, but somehow hurting Cochise with his penis, while his penis is in Cochise’s penis, is a new level of bad.  He doesn’t know if he should pull out or wait or-

            “Tom,” Cochise says, shakily. 

            “I’m sorry!” Tom says, still staying still.  “What can I do to help?”

            “That was an overwhelmingly intense pleasure that I am uncertain how to process,” Cochise whimpers.  “Please continue.”

            Tom kisses the skin between his noseholes again before thrusting slowly into Cochise.  He’s buried completely in Cochise’s pouch, but Cochise’s Volm penis only envelops him part way.  It means that he gets to constantly feel the contrast between the smooth slickness of his pouch and dryer tightness of the inside of his penis. 

            While he’s thrusting, Tom also keeps stroking his bumps.  It leaves Cochise an absolute mess; he’s no longer shaking uncontrollably, just laying limp and making a high pitched screech noise.  Tom is still slightly concerned, since he’s never seen him look so boneless and blissed out and out of control of himself, but Cochise hasn’t told him to stop. 

            Cochise’s pouch tightens around Tom and his thrusts get sharper and less rhythmic.  Heat suddenly overwhelms him and he’s orgasming, hard.  His whole body feels warm and floaty as he starts to pull out of Cochise.

            Or, tries to pull out of Cochise. 

            “I’m stuck,” Tom says.  It should be alarming, but he feels so good that he can’t be worried.

            Cochise opens his arms and Tom takes the invitation to lay down, even though he’s still inside Cochise.  “It is to ensure that none of your sperm escape.  Do not worry.  It will release in time.”

            “Okay,” Tom says, suddenly feeling kind of blurry and out of focus.  He presses a kiss to whatever part of Cochise is near him. 

            “I am sorry that-“

            Tom makes a shushing noise.  “You have nothing to apologize for.  I’ve never felt this good, Cochise, and having sex with an alien was bound to have some surprises.  I want to lay here with you forever.”  Which might happen if they end up attached at the penis permanently.

            “That is impractical.  It is also a sentiment I share,” Cochise says.  His fingers skim over Tom’s hips.  “You are magnificent.” 

            “I love you,” Tom says.  “Let’s at least lay here for a while.”

            “That is practical,” Cochise says.  “I will pretend that we will be able to lay here forever.  It is an enjoyable fantasy.”

            Tom smiles, feeling closer to Cochise than ever (and that’s not even counting the fact that his penis is currently trapped inside Cochise’s penis).


	39. The Abandoned Planet/The Pillow Talk

            They lay in silence for a while, Tom’s head on Cochise’s chest.  Cochise pulled the blankets up over them after Tom started shivering, so Tom feels cocooned and safe. 

“I wish for you to know how immensely pleasurable I found our sexual intercourse,” Cochise says.  “In fact, it may be some time we can engage in intercourse in such a way again because it is overwhelming.”

“That good, huh?” Tom says, looking up at Cochise’s face.

“I did not realize that intercourse could be so pleasurable,” Cochise says, “and sharing this experience with you only increased the pleasure and enjoyment.  Next time I will be more attentive to your needs, I assure you.  I was simply overwhelmed.”

Tom finds Cochise’s hands and holds it tightly.  “This was amazing, Cochise.  You put this whole evening together for me and it was incredible.  And, honestly, after how worried I was about not being able to make you feel good, seeing you like that?  It made _me_ feel so good.”

Cochise squeezes his hand.  “I am glad that you enjoyed your evening.”

“You said that you wanted to make sure my first time was special, and it sure was,” Tom says.  “I’m so glad it was with you.”

Cochise makes a grunting noise.  “I believe you can remove your penis from my Volm penis now.”

Tom feels too warm to move and he groans lightly.  “Do I have to do it right now?”

“No, you do not,” Cochise says. 

“Good, I don’t wanna move,” Tom says.  He burrows a little closer to Cochise’s chest.

“I also find the prospect of movement unpleasant,” Cochise says.  

“We should just run away together,” Tom says, sighing at the thought.  Sighing at the thought of no more risks to Cochise’s health, at no more dangerous Volm lurking around, just Cochise and him.  “Find a nice, warm, empty planet.  Just kick back on some beach somewhere.”

Cochise remains silent and Tom can’t read his face. 

“You know I’m just fantasizing, right?” Tom makes sure.  “It’s pillow talk.  I’m not actually asking you to leave your people.”

Cochise continues to be silent, but his hands start sliding up Tom’s spine slowly. 

“Cochise?”

“Tell me more about this planet,” Cochise says.

“We’d have a little cabin together, with a toilet and running water somehow.  Big bed.  _Huge_ bed.  We wouldn’t spend a lot of time in it, except when I’m sleeping, though.  Because it’d be right by a beach,” Tom says dreamily.  “We’d lay out under the sky- and the sky is purple, because it’s an alien planet- for hours, just talking and touching each other.  Oh!  And we’d swim, just float in this big, wide ocean- in the bright orange water, because, again, alien planet.  Then we’d have to lay out under the sun again to dry off and get warm.”

“I would ensure that your body temperature remained within acceptable norms.  I would like-“ Cochise seems to struggle with the words.

“Go on, you can tell me,” Tom says.  He reaches up to stroke Cochise’s cheek encouragingly. 

“I would like to grow food for us.  Have a garden that I could spend time in,” Cochise says, haltingly.  “I read about gardening in one of your Earth books.  It sounds like an enjoyable pastime.” 

“I could see that.  You’d have a big, floppy hat,” Tom says, beaming up at him. 

“Would you help me in the garden?” Cochise asks.

“Hmm.  I think I’d be a really terrible gardener.  I’d have a hammock right near the garden, though, so I could watch you and relax, reading history,” Tom decides.

“That would be most distracting,” Cochise says, “as I assume neither of us would wear clothing, as we would be the only two people on the planet.” 

Now Cochise is getting into it.  “Excellent idea.  No clothing, ever.”

“I would enjoy a planet with wind.  The air on ships is so still, but I enjoy when there is wind on planets I visit,” Cochise says.

“Rain, too,” Tom says.  “Not, like, big storms, but a nice, steady rain every once in a while would be nice.”

“I believe that I would enjoy holding you while listening to the rain,” Cochise says.  “I have not heard rain, but I enjoy holding you under most circumstances.”

“I love being held by you,” Tom says.  “I always feel safe here.”

“I will always do everything I can to ensure you feel and are safe,” Cochise says.  “Our planet would be safe.”

“Yep, no large predators on our planet.  Just cute herbivores that would never hurt anyone,” Tom says. 

“No Espheni, no war,” Cochise says wistfully. 

“Just you and me,” Tom says. 

“This is a pleasant fantasy.  I do not wish to surrender it to reality,” Cochise says. 

“Then don’t,” Tom says.  “Pretend that you’re just looking for our planet.  The perfect, empty planet, with purple sky and orange water.”

“Volm do not engage in fantasy.  The closest thing is our long term military strategies, which are based strictly on facts and very likely outcomes,” Cochise says. 

“Think of it as a potential strategy, then,” Tom says.  “I mean, I would never ask you to leave your people, but just think of it as a contingency in case something goes wrong.”

“Very wise,” Cochise says.

Tom dozes.  It’s warm and safe and he feels like he’s on their planet.  Their wonderful, perfect planet.

He’s about to slip into sleep when Cochise shakes beneath him.  It jolts him awake and Tom looks up to see Cochise _crying_.

Tom slides easily out of Cochise’s Volm penis and pouch so he can crouch next to Cochise’s chest.  He brushes the tears away, mostly to be sure that they’re real.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asks, concerned. 

“I do not wish to distress you, Tom,” Cochise says.

“Just tell me,” Tom encourages, kissing his forehead.  “Please tell me.”

“Your kindness and generosity move me, and I am emotional from earlier,” Cochise says.

Tom crinkles his brows in confusion.  “I haven’t done anything.”

“You would not ask me to leave my people, even hypothetically, even though it would be immensely beneficial to you,” Cochise says.  “During our time together, you remain unfailingly, openly tender and caring.  It makes me feel…  It makes me feel.”

            It hits Tom hard right then that he’s not the only one who hasn’t gotten much affection in his life.  Yeah, Cochise had his brother, but he’s gone, now.  Tom had always been aware that Cochise hadn’t gotten that much affection, but Tom had assumed that not getting affection hadn’t really affected Cochise _that_ much.  After all, it’s normal for a Volm.  But Cochise is Cochise, and Tom should have known.

            “I always want to make sure that you know that you’re loved, Cochise,” Tom says softly, stroking his face.  “You’re precious and important.”

            Cochise opens his mouth and Tom can just tell that he’s about to spout some Volm bullshit about being not important or only being important as far as being a piece in a war.  So Tom presses his finger over Cochise’s lips and shakes his head.

            “Don’t argue,” Tom whispers.  “You’re precious and important.  That’s that.”

            Cochise flicks his tongue over Tom’s finger.  “Please lay with me again.”

            Tom smiles, lays back down on Cochise. 

            “Tell me more of our planet, please,” Cochise asks as he wraps his arms around Tom again. 

            Tom hums deep in his throat, contemplating what to tell Cochise about next.  Sand, he decides.  Sand that somehow doesn’t do all the annoying stuff that sand usually does.  Blue sand.

            They stay up late into the night, crafting the perfect fantasy planet together.


	40. The Punch/The Lesson (Pt I)

            Tom pulls his thumb out from the fist he has made.  “You’re sure the thumb doesn’t go in the fist?  Like, totally sure?  That’s how it’s always done in movies and it looks way cooler.”

            Cochise sighs lovingly at his human companion and inclines his head.  “I am certain.  It is not about ‘coolness,’ but about safety.  You may accidentally break your thumb if you make a fist with the thumb inside.”

            Tom had continued insisting that he learn some kind of hand to hand combat, and Cochise had eventually acquiesced to his requests.  Cochise had believed that learning how to punch an opponent would be a simple and easy starting point.  Perhaps not.

            Truly, Cochise would prefer not teaching Tom how to fight, as it may result in injury during practice, but he recognizes that putting Tom at risk over his own personal feelings is a poor decision for someone who claims to care about Tom’s wellbeing.  Tom feels that learning to fight is necessary, and considering the plethora of risks he faces, Cochise cannot argue.

            “From what I have observed, it is your stomach area that is most vulnerable, and your chest and head that contain the most vital organs.  Thus, those are the areas you should seek to guard,” Cochise says.

            Tom looks up at him with an indecipherable look.  “I know which parts of me need protecting the most, Cochise.  Just show me how to throw a proper punch.”

            “Very well,” Cochise says.  He gets into position.  “When you throw a punch, you must punch with your whole body.  If you only use your arm, your punch will be substantially weaker.”

            Cochise demonstrates.

            “Please, practice on me,” Cochise says, stepping in front of Tom.

            “What?” Tom says.  “No way!  I’m not punching you, Cochise.”

            “If you were a Volm hatchling learning how to throw a punch, this is how you would do so.  Do not worry, Tom, you will not injure me,” Cochise says.

            Tom throws a few punches, only hitting the air.

            “Tom!” Cochise says in alarm.  “Is your eyesight damaged?  You did not come close to punching me.”

            Tom rolls his eyes at Cochise.  “It was on purpose, Cochise.  I’m not punching you.”

            Cochise feels a substantial amount of frustration that he is not used to experiencing in regard to Tom.  Normally, Cochise enjoys his rebellious and human nature, but this is battle. 

            “In battle, one must do as his commander insists, even if it is distasteful.  Thus, when preparing for battle, one must listen to his instructor in the same way, thus cultivating the habit,” Cochise explains.  “Punch me.”

            “I’m not a Volm, Cochise, and I’m not going into battle.  I’m just learning how to defend myself so that if someone tries to hurt me, I can hopefully hold them off long enough for you to come back and find me.  Like, I know I’d never be able to defeat a Volm- or a human, probably- in hand to hand combat, don’t get me wrong, but maybe I could slow them down so you could save me,” Tom says.

            “Then you must learn to punch a Volm,” Cochise reasons. 

            “I love you, Cochise, and now you think I’m gonna be okay with hurting you?” Tom asks, shaking his head.

            Cochise carefully rests a few fingers along Tom’s cheek to reassure him.  “You are not going to injure me, Tom.  I assure you.  I am strong and I am capable of withstanding many hits before falling.  You are untrained and do not have large amounts of muscle mass on your arms.”

            “You calling me weak?” Tom asks.

            “Physically and compared to a Volm, yes,” Cochise says.  A hatchling could most likely defeat him in combat.

            “And you’re sure that I’m not gonna hurt you?” Tom asks.

            “I am certain you will not injure me,” Cochise says confidently. 

            Tom bites his lips and then nods.  “Okay.  I’ll try it.  Once.”

            “It will take you more than one attempt to perfect your form,” Cochise points out.

            Tom takes a deep breath.  “Just give me a sec.”

            Cochise withdraws his hand from Tom’s cheek and waits at attention.  While he is confident that Tom cannot injure him, Cochise does not wish to be surprised.  Tom could take an expression of surprise as an expression of intense pain and give up on the whole attempt.

            Tom gets into position, facing Cochise.  His hands are shaky, and he stands there for far longer than a second. 

            Eventually, however, Tom pulls his arm back and throws a punch.  It lands on Cochise’s arm.  He barely feels it.

            “That was an acceptable first attempt,” Cochise says, smiling reassuringly at Tom.  “Next time, rotate your body when you deliver the punch.  In addition, you should not aim for my arm; it is unlikely that you could punch a Volm hard enough to break a bone.  Next time, attempt to hit my torso or stomach.”

            “That’s why I hit you on your arm, Cochise, because I figured it would hurt less.  You said that I wouldn’t injure you, but you didn’t say anything about not hurting you,” Tom says.

            Cochise sighs.  “Tom you cannot concern yourself with causing me physical pain if we are to practice your self-defense skills.  I would be most pleased if you caused me pain in this instance.”

            “This is messed up, you know that, right?  It’s messed up that you don’t care about me hurting you,” Tom says, crossing his arms. 

            “Pain is inevitable, Tom.  I would rather this kind of pain than many others, especially the emotional pain that would come from seeing you injured,” Cochise says.  “Volm do not concern themselves with physical pain.”

            He does not point out that they also do not concern themselves with emotional pain.

            “Well, I do!  I’m concerned about hurting you!  You don’t hurt the people you love!” Tom exclaims. 

            “If you were Volm and we were broodmates, we would spar often, and often send each other to the infirmary most likely,” Cochise says.  “We would spar hardest against each other, as it would ensure that we reached peak fighting capacity.”

            “I’m not Volm,” Tom mutters, rubbing his temples.  “This was a stupid idea.”

            “I believe that learning self-defense is actually a wise course of action, but you must be willing to engage in activities you find distasteful, such as punching me,” Cochise says.

            “I, uh, kind of lied about why I wanted to learn self-defense,” Tom says sheepishly.  “Or at least a little bit.”

            Cochise frowns.  He is surprisingly upset to discover that Tom has actively misled him.  “How so?”

            “I didn’t just want to learn to keep myself safe from some hypothetical Volm attacker,” Tom says, not looking at his eyes.  “Remember how you got hurt?”

            “Of course,” Cochise says.

            “I had this stupid thought that if I was better at fighting, then I could have kept you safe somehow,” Tom says. 

            “You were not there,” Cochise points out.  He is used to Tom’s human peculiarities, especially around blame, but this is new.

            “I know.  But even if I had been, I couldn’t have helped you,” Tom says.

            Cochise grasps Tom’s shoulders gently.  “I protect you, Tom.  You do not have to worry about protecting me, especially when I am not on the ship.”

            “You just talk about how expendable you are, because of how expendable any Volm is, and it scares me because you’re _not_ ,” Tom says.  “You’re important, Cochise.  Not just because I need your protection, but because you’re you.”

            “I believe we should return to our quarters, Tom.  I do not wish for other Volm to disturb us,” Cochise says.  There are standards for how pets should behave in public, and knowing Tom, he will not follow them.  “And I believe our attempts at self-defense are done for today.”

            “Okay,” Tom says. 

            As they walk back to their quarters, Tom walking studiously behind him, Cochise tries to ignore the Volm they pass.  They mutter at him about how appealing Tom looks, what they would trade to Cochise for some time with him.  They try to be discreet; Cochise pretends not to have heard them.  He can give no reaction without placing Tom in danger.       

            Cochise finds it somewhat foolish that Tom worries about his wellbeing when he should worry about his own. 


	41. The Lesson (Pt II)/The Illogical Human Mind

“Tom, you do not have to worry about my wellbeing when I am gone,” Cochise says.  “I do not take any unnecessary risks.”

            Tom sits in his lap, head resting against his shoulder.  Cochise enjoys this position, as he can feel all of Tom’s body against his.  He can also wrap his arms around Tom, however tightly or loosely the situation requires.

            “Cochise, I’m pretty sure that what you think is an unnecessary risk and what I think is an unnecessary risks is very different,” Tom says. 

            “I am more aware than you are of the danger you would find yourself in if I did not return home from meeting potential allies,” Cochise says.  “I assure you, I do all I can to ensure that you will never find yourself in that position.”

            Tom looks at him, appearing distinctly unhappy.  “It isn’t about me, Cochise.  You take all the risks.”

            “You are in danger as well,” Cochise says. 

            “You said that if something happened to you, Chal would take care of me.  When you were hurt, they did,” Tom says.  “Don’t get me wrong, I’d be devastated if that happened, but it’s not the same as what you’re always risking.”

            “You would not be as safe with Chal as you are here,” Cochise says. 

            “But they don’t believe in the whole Volm-alien sex slave thing,” Tom says.

            “They do not care for you as I do,” Cochise says slowly.  Cochise does not want to reveal everything; he believes that Tom would find it upsetting.

            “But they like me,” Tom says uncertainly.  “They wouldn’t give me away, would they?”

            Cochise presses his lips to Tom’s forehead gently.  “They would not, but there are other dangers.”

            “Like what?”

            “There is no one person more important than our war.  If ordered by a superior officer, they would injure or kill you, without remorse.  If you openly criticized past Volm operations in the same way that you do here, they would also take action,” Cochise says softly.  “They would never violate you or harm you needlessly, but if they believed it was necessary for the greater good, they would do what they believed to be necessary.”

            Tom’s face has gone pale.  “But they’re my friend, Cochise.” 

            “No friendship is more important than winning this war,” Cochise says. 

            “But I’d never do anything to threaten the Volm!  So it’s a moot concern,” Tom says.

            Cochise presses his lips together.  He does not want to continue with this conversation.

            “Are you saying that I’m a threat to the Volm?” Tom asks incredulously. 

            “Most pets are subject to strict restrictions.  They do not have access to reading material, and if they do, it is very limited.  I assure you, they do not come away with criticisms of the Volm, and if they do, they do not express them,” Cochise says.  “I enjoy your thoughts- it is one of the many things I find enjoyable about you- but I assure you that another Volm, even Chal, would not feel the same.” 

            Tom swallows hard and shakes his head hard.  “Doesn’t matter.  This isn’t about me.  This is about you.  We were talking about you.”

            Cochise does not understand how Tom can find out about this threat to his wellbeing and decide that he needs to talk about Cochise instead.

            “I will do all I can to preserve my own life, I promise you,” Cochise says.  “I do not want to place you in danger.”

            Tom makes a distressed noise.  “This isn’t about me.  Pretend that I don’t exist for a minute.”

            Cochise makes a distressed noise in return.  He does not like this fantasy.

            For some reason, the noise makes Tom smile.  He touches Cochise’s face gently.  “I know, I know, but just pretend.” 

            “Why am I pretending that you do not exist?” Cochise asks. 

            “Because you’re important even if I don’t exist,” Tom says.  “You should still work to save your own life, even if it’s not linked to my wellbeing.”

            “In this terrible fantasy where you do not exist, my value is only to the larger Volm war effort.  If they find me more valuable alive, then alive I will remain.  If the time came when they saw fit to sacrifice me, that would be an acceptable outcome as well,” Cochise says.

            “No it wouldn’t!” Tom says petulantly.

            “Not every culture shares your intense individualism, Tom,” Cochise says gently. “We have larger goals, and those goals require sacrifice on the part of all.”

            “It’s not fair,” Tom says, “and it’s not right.”

            “Are there not people in your culture who risk their lives and sacrifice for the greater good?  Your people have soldiers, do they not?”  Cochise asks.

            “It’s different,” Tom insists.

            “How so?” Cochise asks.

            “Because they joined because they wanted too!  They weren’t made to join and they could leave if they wanted to,” Tom says.  “You never had a choice.”

            “My people did not have choice when the Espheni brought us this war,” Cochise says.  “I will fight alongside my comrades until I can fight no more, and I fight willingly, Tom.  If they ever call me to the frontlines, or to some far flung campaign, I will go willingly there as well.  For now, you should attempt to be happy that I am in this safe posting.”

            “I still don’t get it,” Tom says.  “I mean, you seem totally resigned to the fact that you’re gonna die in this war and you’re not upset at all.”

            Cochise scoops Tom up easily.  He enjoys carrying Tom like this, and he has noticed that Tom seems to enjoy it as well.  Cochise carries Tom over to the far wall and then crouches so Tom can sit on his knee, where Cochise holds him securely.  He reaches out to touch the drawing of the Catarius flower that he drew long ago.

            “Do you remember what I told you about this flower?”  Cochise asks.

            “That your brother read a poem to you about it and that you were confident that it would grow on your homeworld sometime in the future,” Tom says.  “The Catarius flower.”

            Cochise inclines his head.  “Correct.  If I had been given a choice, I would have made the choice to fight.  If my participation in this war helps save one life or brings forth life on the Volm homeworld even a little sooner, then my death will have been worth the sacrifice.  I will not see my people’s victory, but I am confident that it will occur.”

            Tom has begun crying and he’s shaking his head.  “It wouldn’t be worth it to me.”  His voice is tight, like something is constricting his throat, and Cochise can barely understand him.

            Cochise brushes away Tom’s tears carefully.  “Just as your life would not be worth it to me.  We are biased.  I am biased in a way Volm were never meant to be.”

            “Do I make things hard?” Tom asks.

            “I would betray some of the most important ideals of my people for you,” Cochise says quietly.  “It is difficult.”

            “I’m sorry,” Tom says, voice still tight.  Cochise is slightly concerned about the status of Tom’s airways, except he is not turning blue. 

            “You have nothing to apologize for, Tom.  I did not anticipate your impact on me,” Cochise says.  “To be fair, such an impact is also unprecedented.  You are a special creature.”

            “I guess I can’t be too sorry, if it means you’re looking out for yourself more than you would be otherwise,” Tom says.

            Cochise scoops Tom back up to take him to their bed, holding him tight.  All this talk about how fragile Tom’s status is, shook him, just a little.  He does not like to think of it, unless it is necessary.

            “Cochise?” Tom asks quietly.

            “Yes?” Cochise pauses halfway across the room.

            “Do you guys dance?”

            This is one of the many times when Cochise cannot find logic in Tom’s thought processes.  It must be a human logic.

            “We do not.”

            Tom makes a noise.  “I think we should.  You and I.  I think you’d like it.  And you’d probably be better at it than I am at self-defense.”

            Cochise finishes the walk across the room and sets Tom down on the bed, sitting next to him.  “Instead of self-defense, you wish to dance?”

            Tom nods.

            “That is acceptable,” Cochise says.  “In truth, I find it somewhat relieving.”

            “Aw, come on, I wasn’t that terrible, was I?”

            “I worried about accidentally doing you harm,” Cochise explains.  “It was much more likely than you doing me harm.”

            Tom laughs and Cochise is relieved that whatever had blocked his airways had stopped doing so.  “I love you.”

            “I believe I love you too,” Cochise says.  “If that is acceptable.”

            Tom’s eyes just light up.


	42. The Dance/The Meaning Of Love (Treason)

            Tom zips up the back of Cochise’s dress slowly, trailing his fingers along Cochise’s spine.  Or, rather, along the ridges that keep his spine safe. 

            “You are certain that wearing the dress is appropriate?” Cochise asks.

            Tom wraps his arms around Cochise from behind and stands on his toes so his chin is on Cochise’s shoulder.  Normally, the position is an unpalatable one- vulnerable, closer than Volm tend to prefer- but it is enjoyable with Tom.  Not only because he knows that Tom is incapable of doing him physical harm, but because even if he could hurt him, Cochise knows he would not.

            “Yes!” Tom says emphatically.  “You look incredible.”

            Tom’s kind words always make him feel flustered.  They are not based on his physical strength or on the prominence of other characteristics that Volm find appealing, such the prominence of the ridges under his eyes.  It is something that Cochise intuitively understands- after all, he finds Tom attractive despite his lack of physical strength and the quite frankly embarrassing lack of prominent ridges under his eyes- but it is not something that he can properly explain in words.

            “I have never danced before,” Cochise says. 

            “It’s okay,” Tom says.  “It’s easy.”

            Tom comes to Cochise’s front and stands in front of him with a strange look on his face.  “Okay, I’m going to put my hands on your hips, and then you put your arms around my shoulders.”

            Cochise does as Tom says, slipping his arms around Tom’s neck and Tom rests his hands on Cochise’s shoulders.  They stare at each other, unmoving.

            “Are we dancing now?” Cochise asks, uncertain.

            “No, we’re not,” Tom says. 

            “What do we need to do?” Cochise says.

            “Sorry, it’s just hard to do without music,” Tom says. 

            “May I release you?” Cochise asks.

            “Yes, of course,” Tom says, stepping back. 

            Cochise pulls his dress up just a bit so that he can walk easier.  He walks to the table and presses some buttons on the datapad placed there.  Some unidentifiable human music begins to play.

            “We captured some radio emissions from your planet, which is where we determined you keep your music,” Cochise explains.  “I have them stored here.”

            “This isn’t music, Cochise,” Tom says, stepping over to him.  “This is talk radio.  May I?”

            Cochise hands Tom the datapad and watches as Tom searches through his collection of radio recordings. 

            “This isn’t as well organized as a lot of your other material,” Tom comments idly.

            “I had no idea how to organize your music.  In addition, I found it difficult to understand many of the words, which only complicated matters,” Cochise says.

            “No worries.  I found a couple good songs.  Not exactly romance songs that’ll charm your pants off, but that’s cool,” Tom says, pressing a few more buttons.

            “I am not wearing pants,” Cochise points out, “so you have succeeded in that aspect already.”

            Tom smiles softly at him.  “I suppose so.”

            Cochise’s intention had been to pay attention to the song, but Tom sets his hands on Cochise’s waist, and suddenly, Cochise has to pay attention to what is happening.  He slides his hands around Tom’s neck. 

            “We just kind of sway and step carefully,” Tom explains, looking up at Cochise. 

            Cochise nods and breathes out heavily, focusing on where his feet are stepping.  He wants to watch Tom, but he must focus on his feet instead.

            “Hey,” Tom says gently.  “You can relax.  It’s okay.”

            “I do not wish to step on your foot,” Cochise says.  “I am nervous.”

            “Don’t be,” Tom says.  “It’s totally normal to step on people’s feet.”

            “That is part of dancing?” Cochise asks.

            “Not exactly, but it happens,” Tom says.  He takes a step closer to Cochise, hands sliding down to Cochise’s hips. 

            Cochise tries to look at Tom, but he ends up flicking his eyes between Tom’s face and his own feet.  It is dizzying. 

            “This is most difficult.  I am impressed with your confidence and skill,” Cochise says. 

            “I’m plenty nervous, don’t worry,” Tom says. 

            “You are hiding it well,” Cochise says. 

            “Probably because you’re looking at your feet more than you’re looking at me,” Tom points out, but Cochise can feel the affection in his voice.

            “It is likely,” Cochise concedes. 

            “Here, let’s try this,” Tom says.  He steps forward again, and now one of his legs is between Cochise’s legs; Cochise’s dress must make that uncomfortable.  His head rests on Cochise’s chest as his hands slide lazily around Cochise.  “Now we just have to rock a little.”

            Cochise adjusts how he holds Tom to maximize closeness.  “This is easier.  Perhaps because I do not have to move my feet.”

            Tom laughs.  “It _is_ easier that way.”

            Cochise attempts to relax and enjoy the feeling of Tom in his arms.  It is always a pleasant sensation to have Tom so near.  He presses his lips to the top of Tom’s head, enjoying his scent and the small strands of hair that inevitably find their way into his mouth.

            “You said you loved me,” Tom murmurs some time later.  “You said you think you love me, even after you said you thought you couldn’t.”

            “I have contemplated the concept of love,” Cochise says softly, “and most likely I do not love you as a human would- certainly I did not come to the conclusion in the way a human would.”

            “How’s that?”

            “If I found a perfect, abandoned planet for us that I truly believed safe, I would relocate us, if your fantasy was in earnest,” Cochise says, whispering now.

            “I’d never ask you to do that, Cochise,” Tom says.

            “I am aware, but I would willingly abandon my people and this war if it ensured your safety,” Cochise says.  “You are most important.  I do not know if that is love by human standards- it is treason by Volm standards- but it is what I feel.”

            “Yeah,” Tom says, voice shaky, “I think I’d call that love.”

            “Is something wrong?” Cochise asks.  He had believed that an expression of love- and the possibility of relocation- would cause Tom happiness.

            “I just can’t believe it, Cochise,” Tom says.

            “I should caution you that it is unlikely that I will discover a suitable planet- the Espheni have destroyed many worlds in this galaxy,” Cochise says, “and you require a very specific environment to survive.”

            “It’s okay,” Tom says, pressing his cheek against Cochise’s chest harder.  “It means a lot to know that you would do it if you could.”

            Cochise runs one of his hands through Tom’s hair.  They sway together to a song about a hotel and Cochise contemplates their future together until Tom pulls him to bed.


	43. The Beginning of the End/The Only Option

            “You should be aware that we are nearing your home quadrant of space soon,” Cochise says.

            “Really?” Tom says, not looking up from the datapad.  “There aren’t, like, Espheni passing nearby, are there?”  Sure, he doesn’t live there anymore, but he doesn’t want to see the place blown up.

            “No,” Cochise says, “but we are on our way to an Espheni controlled planet.”

            Tom sets the datapad down, looking up at Cochise in confusion.  Cochise looks for allies on unaffected worlds.

            “Why are we going to an Espheni controlled planet?  Are you gonna be in danger?” Tom asks.

            It’s then that Tom realizes that Cochise is standing on the other side of the room, not sitting in bed with him like he usually does.  He’s not working at the table, either.  Something is up.

            “What’s wrong, Cochise?” Tom asks, fear entering his voice.

            “Volm Command has reassigned this vessel.  We are no longer engaging in ally reconnaissance,” Cochise says.  “We will begin liberating planets where the Espheni are attempting to establish a foothold.  Do not worry, they are still far from your home planet.  We are only passing by as it is the quickest route to our new assignment.”

            “So you’re going to be fighting?  On the frontlines?” Tom asks, fear getting bigger.

            “That is correct,” Cochise says.

            Tom bites his lip and shakes his head.  “There must be something else you can do, another ship you can serve on.”

            He would hate to be on another ship- he loves their room and he would miss Chal- but he hates the idea of Cochise fighting more than anything else.

            “I have my orders, Tom, and there is no excuse that Volm Command would find reasonable for why I cannot carry them out,” Cochise says.

            “So what’s going to happen?” Tom asks. 

            Cochise looks at the ceiling. 

            “ _Cochise_ ,” Tom pleads.

            “I believe that I should return you to your planet,” Cochise says.

            “I don’t know how well that would work.  As a species, we’ve had our problems with accepting people with physical differences.  Do you have some kind of technology that can make you look like a human?” Tom asks.  The Volm are super advanced; Tom wouldn’t be surprised.

            Cochise comes and crouches in front of him, grasping his hands.  “I will not stay with you.”

            Tom frowns and pulls away.  “What?  No?  That’s not right.”

            “It is the only way to ensure your safety,” Cochise says.  “You cannot remain on this ship when it goes into battle.  The Espheni may attack, or I may be gone for long stretches of time.”

            Tom pulls his knees up to his chest, refusing to process this.  “I can go with you.  Or we can find that planet.  Or I can hide you on Earth.  Or we can…” He swallows hard and tries to come up another option.  An actual viable option.

            “Tom, there is no other course of action.  I must return you to Earth, where you will be safe,” Cochise says.

            “But I wasn’t safe on Earth!  It won’t be safe,” Tom says frantically.  “Please, there has to be some other option.”

            Cochise rests his hands on Tom’s hips and looks up at him.  “You came onto this ship because you had to halt your education.  I will ensure that you have access to education when you return to Earth.  You will be capable of fulfilling your goals.”

            “How?” Tom asks. 

            “Your people’s primitive computer systems are easy to manipulate.  I will ensure that you have the necessary funds,” Cochise says.

            “I want to stay here,” Tom says.  He buries his face in his knees.  Part of him wants to cry, but there’s this massive vise around his chest and it feels like he can’t even breathe. 

            The bed dips as Cochise sits next to him.  Tom leans against him instinctively.  There’s no point in being mad at Cochise over this.  None of this is Cochise’s fault.

            “I do not wish to return you to your planet.  I do not wish to be parted from you, as I love you,” Cochise says softly into his hair.  “However, there are no other options that ensure your survival.”

            “I’ll take the risk,” Tom says.  “There’s no guarantee that anything will happen me.”

            “It is very likely,” Cochise says, “and I am not willing to put your wellbeing at risk.  You compared the mass of Volm to your father once, and I will not return you to abuse.”

            “Something could happen to me back on Earth, too,” Tom points out weakly.  “Plenty of stuff happened to me.”

            “Since you have been here, many Volm have offered me goods in exchange for time with you,” Cochise says.  “They would not be careful with you, either, as they do not respect you.  I do not wish to be graphic, but it would be painful and I do not wish to contemplate that happening to anyone, but especially to you.”

            Honestly, it doesn’t surprise Tom at this point.  “This isn’t fair.  I hate this.”

            “I am sorry.  I did not anticipate that Volm Command would reassign us from our current mission anytime soon,” Cochise says.  “I would not have informed you of my intense feelings for you otherwise, as I believe that this will increase the pain that you will feel when we separate.”

            “No!  Don’t apologize for that,” Tom says, looking at him for the first time since this conversation started.  “Don’t ever apologize for how you feel.”

            “It may cause you more pain,” Cochise says. 

            “No, Cochise,” Tom gets up on his knees and grasps Cochise’s shoulders.  “I want to know these things, and it’s a good kind of hurt.”

            “I am still sorry,” Cochise says, wrapping his arms around Tom and looking up at him pleadingly.  “I am sorry that I am abandoning you on Earth.  I am sorry for the circumstances in which we find ourselves.” 

            Tom holds Cochise’s face in his hands.  “You’ve made me so happy, Cochise.  I don’t want to leave you, but I also don’t want to spend the time we still have together sad and upset.  I want to enjoy being with you, like I have been.”

            “You are wise, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            Tom kisses him gently.  “How about I make you feel incredibly good again?”

            “No, I wish to give you pleasure,” Cochise says.  “Please, remove your clothing and lay down.  Relax.”

            Tom takes his clothes off, lays down, and spreads his legs.  “Now you’ve got to take your clothes off.” 

            Cochise inclines his head.  “As you wish.”  He pulls his clothes off and joins Tom on the bed.  “If there is anything I can do to increase your pleasure, please inform me.”

            “I will,” Tom says.  He reaches for Cochise’s hand and pulls him on top of him.  “For now, you should definitely kiss me.”

            Cochise kisses him gently.  He starts with his forehead before nuzzling his cheek, flicking out his tongue quickly.  Then, he moves to Tom’s lips, pressing down hard. 

            Tom groans and pulls him even closer, pushing up into his touch.  He just wants Cochise nearer, always. 

            Moving inextricably slowly, Cochise moves down, kissing Tom’s chin, the hollow of his throat, one of his nipples.  His tongue brushes over each new place, providing a pleasant contrast to the leathery feel of Cochise’s skin. 

            “Stay there,” Tom says, gasping. 

            “Are these nubs sensitive?” Cochise asks.  He strokes one finger over the other nipple. 

            Tom just gasps and nods. 

            “Is that their purpose?  I have not noticed that they serve any other,” Cochise’s voice is low, and Tom is pretty sure this is supposed to be seductive.  Honestly?  It’s working.  Partially because Tom adores the sound of Cochise’s voice.

            “About half the population makes milk,” Tom says, trying to focus. 

            “Do you?” Cochise pinches one of his nipples and rolls it between his fingers as he examines it.

            The only thing Tom can do is shake his head as he squirms under Cochise’s touch, starting to get hard.  Having Cochise examine like this has always been some kind of perverse turn on; is having an alien fetish a thing? 

            “It is fascinating to witness your reactions,” Cochise says, flicking his tongue again.

            Tom just gasps and moans, grabbing at the sheets because he needs to hold on to _something_ or else he’s going to spin out of control.

            Cochise smiles up at him and rubs each of his nipples one last time before kissing lower and lower.  He licks into Tom’s bellybutton slowly. 

            “I still find your bellybutton fascinating,” Cochise murmurs into his belly.  “I find all of you fascinating.” 

            “You feel so good,” Tom says.  He strokes over the back of Cochise’s head to encourage him to continue tonguing him there.  “I love your tongue, the rest of you, too.  But right now, especially your tongue.”

            Cochise doesn’t say anything; his tongue keeps circling Tom’s bellybutton, dipping in every so often. 

Tom whines and pushes up into Cochise’s mouth.  “So good, so good, so good,” Tom murmurs over and over. 

            Quickly, Cochise runs his tongue all the way up his body so Tom’s face is level with Cochise’s face again.  Tom smiles and lifts a shaky hand to stroke his face.  God, he can’t believe that he’s going to have to leave Cochise.  All he wants is to stay here.

            “Do you enjoy it when my Volm penis envelopes your human penis?” Cochise asks.  “I will attempt to restrain it if you do not.  I wish to maximize your pleasure.”

            “It feels so good,” Tom assures him.  He wants to find better, smarter words to explain the why and how of his pleasure, but his brain isn’t cooperating.

            “You are certain?  You are not only saying this to make me feel good?” Cochise asks.

            Tom thrusts up against Cochise, needy and unashamed.  “I’ll beg you.  I want to feel you around me, _please_.”

            “You do not have to beg.  I wish to give you anything you desire,” Cochise says. 

            It’s tempting to ask for a blowjob, but Tom doesn’t want to take advantage of him.  Cochise is probably feeling guilty, and if Tom asked for something, Cochise would probably give it to him, even if he thinks that it’s gross.  It wouldn’t be right. 

            Cochise grasps Tom’s dick and lines himself up before pushing down onto Tom.  He moves quickly, burying Tom to the hilt inside his pouch.

            Tom pushes up into the smooth, slick sensation of Cochise’s pouch.  It moves and shifts, tensing and relaxing around him, and Tom could scream with pleasure. 

            Oh, wait, he is.

            Now, it’s not alarming at all when Cochise’s Volm penis starts to cover his.  Tom is looking forward to it, to how the dryness will contrast with the slickness.  He wants to push in further, but Cochise has gone back to playing with his nipples, so all Tom can do is lay there, body wracked with pleasure. 

            Tom has gone back to murmuring about how good this is.  How much he wants Cochise, how much he _needs_ him.  Everything’s so perfect, right in this moment. 

            Cochise kisses Tom’s lips hard as he thrusts around him.  The feeling of everything being Cochise is enough to push Tom over the edge.  He yells into Cochise’s mouth as his whole body goes rigid.

            By now he’s used to how Cochise’s Volm penis stays wrapped around his, how he’s bonded to Cochise for a little while longer.  Cochise lays down on top of him, nuzzling his face into the crook of Tom’s neck as his tongue flicks out lazily. 

            He’s heavy, but Tom loves it, and he wraps trembling arms around Cochise’s body.  Their days together are numbered, and part of Tom can’t believe it.  He had thought that they would somehow be able to continue on together forever.  But, mostly, Tom had known something like this had to come.  Living on an alien ship, falling in love, being at peace- it had been too good to last, especially as he learned more about the Volm as a whole. 

            Cochise mutters words against his neck in Volm, and while Tom can’t understand him, Tom strokes his head and tells him that it’s okay anyway.


	44. A Risk/The Promise(s)

            Tom doesn’t ask how long they have left together, mostly because he doesn’t want to know.  Maybe he should, but he doesn’t even know how long he’s been on the Volm ship in the first place.  It feel like years; it feels like only days.

            There’s a heavy spot in his chest that feels like it’s suffocating him, which makes him want to find an airlock (do Volm have airlocks?  There’s so much that he doesn’t know yet) and blast himself out of it.

            Cochise touches him even more often than usual, like he regrets all the time that he didn’t spend touching Tom the first few months he was onboard (or maybe Tom is projecting).  He doesn’t talk about their upcoming separation either, but he does keep him updated on his day to day life.  There are little hints about the ship’s change in mission; Cochise’s reports mainly cover how much distance they’ve travelled, no longer including details about potential allies. 

            But, of course, silence can’t last forever.  It’s three days before they mention it again, Tom curled up around (and bonded inside) Cochise after a long lovemaking session.

            “I must warn you that you cannot inform Chal that you are leaving the ship,” Cochise says.

            “I can’t say goodbye?” Tom asks, frowning.

            “I am not allowed to return you to your planet.  I cannot be certain whether or not Chal will report this to Volm Command,” Cochise says.  “They disapprove of keeping alien pets, but I will have to use a spaceship without authorization, which is a crime.”

            “Wait- are you putting yourself at risk over this?” Tom asks.

            “There is some risk,” Cochise says, looking away.

            Tom reaches out and turns Cochise’s head towards him firmly.  “What kind of risk?”

            “Do not worry about it,” Cochise says.

            Yeah, right.

“Excuse me,” Tom says.  “What kind of risk?”

            “Physical pain does not bother me,” Cochise says.  “It is possible that I will not be caught at all.”

            “Nobody’s gonna notice I’m gone?  Chal will, at least,” Tom points out. 

            “I will claim that you have died under my care,” Cochise says.  “Allowing an alien to die is no crime.”

            “Lucky aliens,” Tom says dryly.  “But what if they catch you coming back?”

            “They will hurt me, but they will do no permanent harm.  I will be capable of fighting when we reach our destination,” Cochise says. 

            “I don’t like it,” Tom says. 

            “It is preferable to discovery before you are safely on your planet.  I do not wish to discuss that possibility,” Cochise says.

            Tom sighs and strokes his chest.  “I still don’t like this.”

            “Nor do I,” Cochise says.  “I am going to miss you most ardently.”

            “You haven’t found our perfect planet, have you?” Tom asks, hopefully.  “We could stay together.”

            “I have not, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            Tom closes his eyes and holds Cochise’s hand tight.  “You have to promise me something, Cochise.  You have to.”  He wants to make Cochise promise this now, so he can remind him about it when they part.

            “What do want me to promise you?” Cochise asks.

            “Keep watching out for yourself, Cochise,” Tom murmurs.  “Keep looking out for yourself like my life depends on it.”

            Cochise exhales hard and Tom feels his Volm penis retract so Tom pulls out. 

            “Come on, Cochise,” Tom says, opening his eyes and looking up at him. 

            Cochise looks distressed as he looks away from Tom.  His hand twitches in Tom’s, and while Tom knows that Cochise could break away, he doesn’t.  That must be a good sign.

            Tom sits up and scoots so he’s straddling Cochise’s torso.  Pinning Cochise’s arms is actually useless, but Tom does it anyways as he makes Cochise look at him. 

            “You’re still going to be important once I’m not here.  You’re going to have to remember that on your own,” Tom says.

            “I do not want to make a promise to you that I cannot keep,” Cochise says.

            “You’ve gotta,” Tom says, swallowing hard.  Fine.  Forget trying to convince Cochise of his own inherent importance.  “Okay, still do it for me, then.  Still look out for yourself for me.”

            Cochise looks up at Tom sadly.  “I am incapable of formulating a fantasy by myself.  I can construct our perfect planet only because I have you to guide me.”

            “Then don’t make it a fantasy,” Tom reasons.  “I’m still going to love you when we’re apart.  I’m still going to want you to be okay.  I’d still be devastated if anything happened to you.”

            “You would not know, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            “There’s this human idea, where there’s somewhere out there that everyone is supposed to be with.  The other part of you.  Your soulmate,” Tom says, feeling kind of ridiculous.  He’s grabbing at straws, but this is so important.  “No matter how far away you are from that person, you know when something happens to them.  Especially something terrible like that.”

            “Perhaps it is a human phenomenon.  I do not know if I have the same ability,” Cochise says.

            “Hey, I don’t even know if I believe in that stuff,” Tom says honestly.  “But if it’s true, I think that you’re it.  And I think that I’d know if something happened to you, somehow.”

            “I would not wish to accidentally cause you harm,” Cochise says softly.

            Tom smiles and leans down to kiss him softly.  He knows that Cochise doesn’t really believe in this, but Tom is glad that Cochise is willing to believe for him.

            “Then promise me that you’ll look out for yourself,” Tom says. 

            “I will,” Cochise says.  “I will make any acceptable attempts to preserve my own wellbeing.”

            “ _Promise_ ,” Tom insists.  “Promise that you’ll look out for yourself like my life depends on it.”

            Cochise breaks his arms out of Tom’s grip and cups Tom’s face with his hands.  “I promise that when you are gone, I will look out for myself as if your wellbeing is at stake.  After all, if your human soulmate theory is correct, then your wellbeing may very well be at risk.”

            Tom sighs in relief.  Maybe it won’t keep Cochise from putting himself in danger, but maybe it will.

            “You must promise me something as well,” Cochise says seriously, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. 

            “Of course.  What is it?” Tom asks.

            “You must promise me that you will continue living when I return you to Earth.  You have expressed a desire for family and for offspring, and I do not wish to inadvertently prevent you from attaining that goal,” Cochise says. 

            Tom finds himself starting to well up at the thought of moving on from Cochise.  At the thought of finding someone new. 

            “But I’m always going to love you, Cochise,” Tom says, sniffing.

            “And I will always love you.  Even if I was the first Volm warrior to die of old age, I would continue to love you as I do now,” Cochise soothes him.  “You and I will never be able to see each other again, however.  You have a large capacity for love; I believe you could love another.  And if you do, I do not want you to feel as if you are betraying me.”

            “What if it feels that way, though?” Tom asks.  “Because it’s going to.”

            “As long as the person you are with treats you with love and respect, you are fulfilling my wishes,” Cochise says.  “I wish for you to be loved and to be happy.  Nothing that achieves those goals could betray me.”

            “I’d say the same in return, but…” Tom trails off, not sure how to nicely point out that Cochise is going to be stuck in a loveless society and that it’s basically impossible that Cochise could ever find love again.

            “Do not worry, Tom.  I have already received more love than any Volm has since this war began,” Cochise says.  “It has been a great honor to be able to return it.”

            Tom buries his face in Cochise’s shoulder so he can cry in peace.  He knows that he can make it in the world without Cochise, he really does, but god, he doesn’t want to.  Cochise would make Earth so much brighter, so much better.  Everything is going to feel so cold without him.


	45. The Human Act of Pooping (The Redux)/A Romance Novel

            Cochise fidgets nervously as Tom heads towards the bathroom.  He’s fidgeting so obviously and uncharacteristically that it makes Tom pause, despite the fact that both his bladder and his bowels are pretty full.

            “You okay?” Tom asks, crossing his legs where he stands to keep from embarrassing himself. 

            “I have what I am certain is an unusual request,” Cochise says.  “You are, as always, free to refuse.”

            “Can it wait?” Tom asks, gesturing towards the bathroom.  “I gotta go.”

            “My request has to do with the bathroom,” Cochise says.  “I remain curious about the human act of pooping.”

            “You wanna watch me poop?” Tom asks.

            “I understand it is a private ritual, but I remain curious,” Cochise says. 

            “You’re not gonna find me gross after, are you?” Tom asks, bouncing up and down a little because his bladder is _full_.  “Because most people don’t want to watch their lover poop.  It’s, like, a pretty gross thing.”

            “I do not have the same stigma around bodily functions as a human lover would,” Cochise points out.  “I am merely curious about pooping, as Volm do not eliminate solid waste.”

            “Okay, come on,” Tom says.  He might as well share everything with Cochise at this point.  “I’ve gotta use the bathroom now, poop included.”        

            Cochise practically jumps up out of bed and Tom leads him into the bathroom.

            Tom pulls his pants down, kicking them off, and then he settles on the toilet, spreading his legs wide so Cochise can see what’s happening.  “I’m gonna pee first, and then poop.”

            Cochise crouches between his legs and looks at him with an intensity that makes Tom rethink his whole ‘being closely examined by Cochise is a super turn on’ thing.

            There’s a long pause while Tom tries to pee.  “Sorry, sorry,” Tom apologizes.  “I’m kind of a nervous pee-er.  Gimme a sec.” 

            “Am I making you nervous?” Cochise asks.

            “A little,” Tom says, “but it’s mostly just because nobody ever watches anyone else pee back on Earth.” 

            “I am sorry.  If you wish, I will leave you.  I do not have to satisfy my curiosity,” Cochise says.

            “No, no.  Stay.  I want to do this for you,” Tom says.  He squints as he starts to feel a little something in his penis.  “Okay, it’s coming.  I’d back up a little bit to make sure you don’t get splashed by anything.”

            Cochise remains still, fixated on the inside of the toilet bowl.  “I will remain here.”

            This is the alien he has fallen in love with, squatting in front of him, fully ready to get pee splashed because he’s that curious about human biology.

            Tom manages to pee without splashing Cochise in the face, thank goodness.  “You doin’ alright down there?”

            “This is a fascinating yellow color,” Cochise says. 

            “It, uh, changes shades based on how much liquid I’ve drunk,” Tom says.  “And sometimes it turns green!”

            “Is this a healthy color for your urine?” Cochise asks.

            “Yeah, don’t worry.  My pee is totally fine,” Tom assures him. 

            “Good,” Cochise says firmly.

            “Okay, I’d still watch out for splashing this time around,” Tom says.

            The poop gets kind of stuck, so Tom pushes hard to get it all the way out, making an embarrassing grunting noise. 

            “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Tom soothes him in a tight voice when he sees Cochise start at the noise.  Always so concerned for him.

             The poop slowly makes it way out of him, landing in the toilet bowl with a splash.  Hopefully it’s a well formed poop, or something.  He wants his poop to look good for Cochise, okay?

            Cochise starts to get up, but Tom puts a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Not done yet.”  He figures Cochise wouldn’t want to miss the end of this, and Cochise can easily pull out of his grip if he wants to.

            Tom makes another grunting noise as a couple more pieces of poop fall into the toilet.  He wipes himself clean.  “Okay, that’s it.”

            Cochise looks up at him appreciatively.  “Thank you, Tom.  It was interesting, and I am glad to understand you slightly more.”

            Tom looks down at him, scrunching his face in confusion.  “You understand me more?  After watching me poop?”  From anyone else, he’d take it as an insult.  Actually, he’d never let anyone else watch him poop, up close and personal, so it would be insanely creepy coming from someone else. 

            “I understand why you had been so keen to have a toilet.  I also understand why you do not delay when you need to void your bowels,” Cochise says.  “Having poop inside you seems most uncomfortable.”

            Tom snorts and gets off the toilet, tugging Cochise to his feet.  “So, what?  Your peeing isn’t urgent?”

            “No, we can go without eliminating waste for a long period of time; although, it is most comfortable to go daily,” Cochise explains.  “It affects the color of our urine.”

            “Okay, can I see you pee?” Tom asks.  “I gotta see what color your pee is now.”

            “Of course,” Cochise says.  “I will be able to urinate in a few hours.”

            “You’re not grossed out by me now, right?” Tom asks as they head back to the main room, Tom leaving his pants behind.  Pants are unnecessary. 

            “I am not,” Cochise says, wrapping his arms around Tom as they lay down.  They spend most of their time snuggled together in bed these days.  Before they had snuggled a lot, of course, but now there’s an urgency behind it.  They don’t have a lot of time left together; they can’t be careless with what they have left.  “Are you going to be disgusted by me when you witness me peeing?”

            “Nah,” Tom says. 

            “Then why would you assume that I would be disgusted by you?” Cochise asks.

            “Because when you found out that I peed out the same place that we’d eventually have sex, you said it was gross,” Tom says.  “So I figured you’d find it gross once you saw it in person.”

            “I was startled.  I am now more used to your bodily functions,” Cochise says.  “You are exquisite, and I apologize for my earlier reaction.”

            Tom laughs and kisses his chest.  “You’re the only person anywhere- human or not- who would call someone exquisite after watching them poop and pee.” 

            “Only you,” Cochise says quietly, hand tangled in Tom’s hair.   

            Tom’s heart pounds hard in his chest like usual.  He’s pretty sure that they could have another hundred years together and Cochise would still make his heart pound like that.

            “For someone who comes from a species that doesn’t do romance, you sure are romantic,” Tom says.

            “I read guides to ensure that I would be able to convey my feelings of affection to you,” Cochise reveals.

            “Romance novels?” Tom asks.  “You read romance novels?”

            “I knew that traditional Volm compliments would either not apply to you or else they would not necessarily be taken as compliments,” Cochise says.  “If you had killed anyone, I do not believe you would be proud of it.”

            “No, I wouldn’t,” Tom agrees.  “So, do you not really feel the things you say?”

            “I do!” Cochise says urgently.  “I do not lie.  I only used them to determine how to compliment you and what language best describes my emotions for you.  Volm do not compliment their broodmates so ardently, nor do they express such strong emotions as humans do.  I most likely would never had said anything without my reading.”

            “Thank goodness for the books, then,” Tom murmurs.  “I would have gotten pretty insecure if you didn’t compliment me at all.”

            “That was the situation that I wished to avoid,” Cochise assures him.  “But I assure you, everything I say to you is a genuine expression.”

            “Good,” Tom says.  “I’d never want you to lie to make me feel better.”

            “I will not do such a thing,” Cochise says. 

            Tom’s legs are tangled up in Cochise’s, and their arms are wrapped around each other tightly.  The silence spreads between them, a comfortable, full kind of silence that can only come between two people who love each other deeply.


	46. The Hidden Penis/The Volm Act of Urination

            Such silences are made to be broken, however, especially when the two people who love each other know that they don’t have much time left.  There’s only so much time to uncover every last detail, to crystalize each other so they’ll never forget.  And when there’s not enough time left, there’s no more excuses to hold off asking the questions they’re not sure if they want the answers to.

            “Do you regret it?  Bringing me aboard,” Tom asks.  “I mean, your life would be much simpler without me in it, right?  It would have been really easy for you to say no to me.”

            “You have just requested that I remain honest with you, so I will not say that I have never considered the benefits of a simpler life,” Cochise says.  “You have caused innumerable complications.  However, the only time I have truly regretted bringing you aboard has been when you were ill and I feared you would die prematurely under my care.”

            “Really?  That’s the only time?” Tom asks.  “I mean, I’ve caused a lot of problems for you.”

            “You have caused complications, yes, but you have also enriched my life in numerous ways.  As I have discussed with you in the past, I had never felt as if I fit in with other Volm, and when you entered my life, I was mourning my brother.  In you I have found someone I feel wholly comfortable with, something which I did not believe possible,” Cochise says.  “I will treasure our time together as the best portion of my life.” 

            “I’m sorry for the complications, but I’m glad I’ve been able to make you feel less alone,” Tom says.

            “The complications have never been your fault.  They have been the fault of my people,” Cochise says.  “Please, do not apologize for them.”

            Tom kisses his shoulder.  “Then, I’m just glad that I’ve been able to make you feel less alone.  You’re a special sort of person, Cochise, so I’m glad that you’ve been able to feel that kind of acceptance.  And I’ll keep loving and accepting you even when I’m not around anymore.  It won’t be the same, I know, but I hope you feel it anyway.”

            “Have you regretted your decision to come aboard the Volm ship?” Cochise asks.  “It has placed you in danger.”

            “So?” Tom says, shrugging a little.  “That’s something that I’m used to.  But you’ve given me a chance, Cochise.  A chance to get out from under my father’s thumb, to study and relax for once.  It’s something that I never thought I’d have.  Even if I had gotten to go to college right away, I wouldn’t have been able to really get away from him.  I probably would have had to live at home.”

            “You were not bothered by the risks?  I am aware you lived in danger before, but that does not mean that you cannot be bothered by new threats to your safety,” Cochise says.

“I know that it wasn’t always actually safe, but I always felt safe with you, Cochise.  You’ve always made me feel safe,” Tom says.  “Maybe I would have thought twice if I had known the risks, but I would have come with you for sure.  I would have gone anywhere to get away from him, so I’m lucky.”

“Lucky?” Cochise says.

“Yeah,” Tom says.  “I mean, I could have taken a different route home and you wouldn’t have abducted me.  Or you could have sent someone else down to Earth, and I would have begged them to take me away.  Either they would have said no and sent me back, or else they would have taken me in and treated me, well, really badly.  So, I’m lucky that everything lined up so we would meet.  We never would have otherwise.” 

“I had considered sending someone else to survey your planet, as it was not a promising planet as far as discovering new allies,” Cochise says.  “I am, of course, glad that I did that myself.”

“Me, too,” Tom says.  “It’s why I’ve never regretted coming aboard.  You.  Even when I was sick, I didn’t regret it.  Hell, even if I had died, I wouldn’t have regretted it.”

“Do not discuss the possibility of your death,” Cochise says.  “I find it an unpleasant prospect, especially as it nearly happened.  I held you when I thought you would likely die.  It was unsettling.”

“Sorry,” Tom says.  “I just want to make sure that you know how important this has been to me.”

“I am glad to know that you have found our time valuable,” Cochise says.

“And enjoyable.  So enjoyable,” Tom says.  “I never thought I’d get to know someone so well or that I’d ever love them so much.  It’s kind of strange how you can spend eighteen years on a planet, meet plenty of people there, but never really get to know someone until they’re an alien taking you light years from Earth.”

Cochise smiles down at him.  “I am glad that our time has been to our mutual benefit.  You also deserve to feel acceptance.”

“I do,” Tom murmurs.  He closes his eyes and imagines another, better world where he could tell Cochise ‘I do’ and be marrying him.  It’s almost unimaginable.  (Maybe that’s because he’s not wearing any pants.  He’d be wearing pants at this hypothetical wedding.)

“I am ready to urinate when you are ready to witness me urinate,” Cochise says.  “I can, of course, wait for however long you wish to lay here.”

“You’re so comfy and alluring,” Tom says, “but you’ve also got me really into urination.  So lets go!”

There’s a pause, and then: “You are not moving, Tom.  I will not urinate on you unless you expressly request me to.”

“Good call,” Tom says, reluctantly sitting up, away from Cochise’s warmth.  “Don’t pee on your human.  I was just loathe to get up and leave your warmth, you know?”

“I do know,” Cochise says, getting out of bed, “but there is nothing to prevent us from returning to bed after you witness my urination.”

“True, true,” Tom says.  “I know that the reason you’re working less is actually sucky, but I like having you around most of the day.”  No need to scan star systems they’ve already been through.

“I find the training rigorous, but it is always enjoyable to return to you,” Cochise says.  “I must admit, it is also good to get into true fighting shape again.”

Tom is saved from having to reply because they reach the bathroom.  Yeah, it’s good that Cochise is gonna be in top shape, but he’s also going to have to go fight.  It sounds whiny in his head, but Tom doesn’t want Cochise to go fight.

Cochise pulls his pants down and heads towards the shower drain/Volm toilet combo in one corner.  He turns his back to the Volm toilet and squats a little, leaning against the wall. 

Tom squats next to Cochise, back a little bit because while Cochise had been willing to get splashed, Tom most definitely is not. 

“There are many ways that Volm can pee, but this is my preferred position,” Cochise says conversationally. 

Tom makes a vague approving noise and nods, as if he has any firm opinion on Volm urination positions. 

Cochise bends his knees a little more and what looks like a second Volm penis unfurls from the Volm equivalent of a butthole.  A dark purple goo starts oozing out of his newly discovered Volm penis. 

It comes out in a steady stream, easing down into the drain, which makes a weird sucking noise.

“Wait, is it suctioning your pee?” Tom asks.

“It helps eliminate mess,” Cochise says.  “Our urine can stain depending on what we have eaten recently, and I prefer to keep my living quarters clean.”

“Super stain pee,” Tom says, nodding a little.  Makes sense.  “Are you a nervous pee-er, too?”

“I do not find you witnessing my urination uncomfortable,” Cochise says.  “As I have told you previously, we do not have shame surrounding our bodily functions.”

Tom nods and continues to watch Cochise’s pee.

“It’s kind of cool.  I mean, we eat pretty much the same thing, and somehow our bodies turn it into totally different substances,” Tom comments.

“It is a sign that our bodies have vastly different biochemistries,” Cochise says. 

“At least we’re biochemically compatible in all the important ways,” Tom says, smirking up at Cochise. 

“Very true,” Cochise says.

Tom watches as the peeing comes to an end and the second Volm penis retracts back up.

“That is the conclusion of my urination.  My urinary tract is self-cleaning, so I do not require anything equivalent to toilet paper,” Cochise says.  “Are you repulsed?”

“Nope,” Tom says, leaning up to kiss Cochise’s cheek.  “You’re as attractive as ever.”

“I am glad,” Cochise says, wrapping an arm around Tom as they walk back to bed.  “You are aware, of course, that neither of us are currently wearing pants.”

Tom snorts and lets Cochise tug him into bed.  “You’re a sneaky Volm.”

“It is something I have picked up from my human lover,” Cochise says. 

Tom just kisses him, hard.


	47. The Injury/The Negative Emotional Reaction

Tom kicks his feet as he lays in bed, waiting for Cochise to come back.  He’s training to get into fighting shape, which, from what Tom can tell, means short but intense sessions.   It means a lot more time together, which is good, because ever since Cochise told him that he’s going back to Earth, Tom has had trouble concentrating. 

He tries to read his datapad like always, but he ends up staring off into space.  Even when he doesn’t stare into space, Tom gets to the bottom of the page and realizes he hasn’t really absorbed the information.  It’s slowed their conversations about Volm history immensely. 

So Tom has just kind of stopped trying.  He lays in bed and waits for Cochise to come back to him, mostly.  It’s not a good thing, Tom is pretty sure, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

The door slides open and Tom perks up as he sees Cochise’s face.  He jumps up in alarm when he sees that Cochise’s face is contorted in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” Tom asks.

“Do not worry, Tom,” Cochise says in an alarmingly pained voice as he limps towards him.  “It was a part of training.”

“Come here!  Lay down, or something,” Tom says.  “Or go to the infirmary?”

“No!” Cochise says and then calms down.  “I wish to remain here.  I am perfectly fine.”

“You’re not fine!  You’re clearly hurt,” Tom says, coming to stand next to him.  “Come here, lean on me; I’ll help get you to bed.”

“I do not require your assistance.  I can withstand more severe injury than this without assistance,” Cochise says. 

“You don’t have to while I’m still here,” Tom says.  “Come on.  Please.  Let me help you.”

“As you wish, Tom,” Cochise says, wrapping an arm around Tom and leaning on him. 

Tom takes his weight with some effort and wraps his arm carefully around Cochise’s waist.  He helps Cochise to the bed, easing him to a seated position.  From there, he helps Cochise lay down, kneeling by the bed and holding his hand.

“What happened?” Tom asks. 

“You will not like the explanation,” Cochise says.  “You should join me in bed instead.”

“Tell me anyway,” Tom says.  “Then we’ll talk about bed.”

“It was my turn,” Cochise says.

“Your turn?” Tom asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We take turns attempting to fight off as many of our comrades as we can,” Cochise says.  “They attack at full force in increasing numbers until you fall to the ground and can take no more.”

“Your own people attack you?” Tom asks in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“Okay, who attacked you?  I’ll attack them right back,” Tom says, squeezing Cochise’s hand.  He’s only kind of kidding.

“You must not,” Cochise says.  “They would easily defeat you in hand to hand combat.”

Tom kisses his hand.  “Okay.”

“You cannot judge the other Volm for this.  After all, I also participate in these exercises.  It is how we become stronger,” Cochise says.

“Yeah, but you only do it because you have to, right?” Tom says.

“No, Tom,” Cochise says.  He takes his free hand to trace Tom’s cheekbone.  “I know you do not understand, but it is part of my duty as a Volm warrior, one which I take on willingly.”

Tom sighs.  “I don’t understand.  I guess I don’t have to understand.  I just have to love you.”

“I love you as well,” Cochise says.

“Where are you hurt?” Tom says.

“Throughout most of my body,” Cochise says.  “It took many of my comrades to bring me down.”

“I’m proud of you,” Tom says, smiling at him.  “Even if I don’t get it, I’m proud of you.”

“That is meaningful to me,” Cochise says.  “Thank you.”

Tom gets into bed with Cochise, cradling his head in his lap.  He looks down at Cochise and strokes his face.  “Is this okay?”

“It is pleasant,” Cochise says, “and you are not causing me any pain.”

“Good,” Tom says.  “I’ll be proud of you for taking down a bunch of your comrades, but I won’t willingly cause you pain.”

“I understand.  You have your limits,” Cochise says.

“Can I do anything else for you?” Tom asks.

“Perhaps you could tell me more of Volm history.  I also find that enjoyable, especially when I am not feeling at my best,” Cochise says.

Tom looks away from Cochise.  “I still haven’t really learned that much more.”

“I am worried for you,” Cochise says.

“You’re lying here injured and you’re worried about me?” Tom asks.

“I will recover soon,” Cochise says.  “There is something wrong with you that I cannot determine.”

“What do you mean?” Tom asks. 

“One of the first things that drew me to you was your insatiable curiosity, and now you do not read at all,” Cochise says.

“I try, but it just doesn’t stick anymore,” Tom says.

“It is concerning, as this does not fit in with anything I have learned about you,” Cochise says.  “You are an inquisitive person.  Now you lay here and do nothing while I am gone.”

“I know,” Tom says, sighing.

“Look at me,” Cochise says.

Tom does so, feeling warmed at the compassion in Cochise’s eyes.

“I believe that you having a negative emotional reaction to our impending separation,” Cochise says.  “It is affecting your abilities.”

Tom nods.  “I know that I can do life on Earth without you.  I’ve done it before.  But I miss you already, Cochise.  I just… I’ve never had to deal with a loss like this, not really.  I read the history and I think about you instead.  So I might as well just stare off into space.”

“I wish I knew how to aid you,” Cochise says.  “We are told that we do not have large negative emotional reactions to events, but that will not help you.”

“It’s okay,” Tom says.  “I’ll figure it out, promise.”

“You are strong,” Cochise says with a sigh.

“And how are you doing?” Tom asks.

“I am Volm; I-“

“Shush with that,” Tom says.  “You told me you were mourning your brother even though you shouldn’t be.  I’m not saying I’m on your brother’s level, but you love me and we’re never going to see each other again.  I know you, Cochise.  You’re having a reaction.”

“I find training to serve as an adequate distraction during the day.  It gives me focus,” Cochise says.  “Even during the day when we are together, I do not think of it much.  However, when I am holding you while you sleep, I am distressed and can think of little else.  Soon, I will not be able to protect you from whatever dangers you encounter.  Soon, you will no longer sleep in my bed, and not by your choice.  Soon, I will be alone again, and I am not as confident as you are in my ability to exist in such a state.”

“You’ve done it before, Cochise,” Tom says. 

“You have changed so much for me, Tom,” Cochise says simply. 

Tom strokes his brow gently.  “You’re still Volm,” he says softly.  “You’re still the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Cochise closes his eyes slowly.  “I believe I will take a nap, if that is acceptable.”

“Of course,” Tom says.  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I am glad,” Cochise replies.

Tom wants to try to beg Cochise to let him stay.  To try to make the case that it’s better that he risk his life than Cochise be alone.  It’s certainly how Tom feels.  But Tom knows that if he went with Cochise into a warzone and didn’t survive, Cochise would never be able to forgive himself. 

So Tom settles for soothing Cochise as he sleeps, stroking his face and murmuring comforting words to him.


	48. A Biological Process/A Comparative Frailty

            While Cochise has been asleep, Tom has shifted a little.  Now his legs are crossed and Cochise finds his head nestled comfortably in the gap.  One of his ears is pressed near Tom’s soft stomach.

“How are you feeling?” Tom asks as Cochise opens his eyes again.

            Cochise smiles reassuringly into Tom’s concerned face.   “I have told you: I am fine.”

            Tom’s face becomes exasperated in a familiar, comforting way.  “Come on, Cochise.  Are you still hurting?”

            “Many of my injuries have healed thanks to my regenerative state,” Cochise says. 

            “I’m a huge fan of that regenerative state,” Tom says.  “How much damage can it repair?”

            Part of Cochise wants to sit up, but he’s so comfortable, using Tom’s lap as a pillow.  Humans are such squishy creatures compared to the Volm.  He burrows his head a little closer to Tom’s belly instead. 

            “It can save us from near death conditions if we are given time and left undisturbed,” Cochise says. 

            “That’s a relief,” Tom says. 

            “Do you have an equivalent biological process?” Cochise asks hopefully.

            “No, we don’t,” Tom says.  “Healing just takes good old fashioned time and rest.”

            “That is unfortunate situation,” Cochise says. 

            “I’ll tell evolution to get right on it,” Tom says, leaning down to kiss his forehead with his warm, soft lips. 

            Cochise leans up to capture his lips when Tom starts to pull away.  It is a new angle, which Cochise enjoys. 

            They stay like that for a while, Cochise’s hand in Tom’s hair as they kiss.  It is comfortable for Cochise, but he realizes that it must be uncomfortable for Tom, so he releases Tom and lays back down.

            “I know that I don’t have much time left here, but I’m going to make sure I learn everything I can.  No more not reading, or letting myself get distracted,” Tom says.  His brow is firm and his jaw is set.

            “I am glad,” Cochise says.  “I believe that you would regret not learning all you could when given the chance.”

            “I would,” Tom says.  “I have a question for you, though.”

            “What question?” Cochise asks.

            “Is there any way that I could take my datapad with me?” Tom asks.  He slides his hand into Cochise’s.

            “I cannot give you any Volm technology,” Cochise says.  “A datapad contains much information, and while it is unlikely you will encounter another alien, I cannot risk the information falling into another species’ hands.”

            “Okay,” Tom says, nodding a little.  “What about a communication device?  I wouldn’t bother you a lot, just to make sure you were okay.”

            “You could never bother me,” Cochise says.  “However, any communication device capable of reliably communicating with me no matter where I am located in the galaxy would be large and impossible to hide.  Anything compact enough to be practical may fail if we move too far away.  I do not want to risk giving you a device that will lead you to believe I am dead if I am not.”

            Tom sighs.  “Are you going really far away?”

            “We may be,” Cochise says.  “I cannot predict where Volm Command will send me.  Being sent far away is good, however, because it means the enemy is far from Earth.”

            “I guess,” Tom says.  “Somehow, the thought of you being closer is comforting.”

            Cochise reaches up to rub Tom’s shoulder.  “As I said, I believe it is better the Espheni stay far away from Earth.  I would not wish to see you in war.”

            “I would suck at it,” Tom agrees. 

            “You are gentle and kind,” Cochise says.  “I would not wish for that gentleness and kindness to be warped by war.”

            “You’re gentle and kind, too,” Tom says.  “Obviously, gentleness and kindness can survive.”

            Cochise’s chest tightens and he does not have a response.  There is no room in Cochise’s life for him to be kind and gentle, at least not once he leaves Tom behind.  Once he truly enters war, Cochise will become nothing but a warrior, and he will no longer be the person that Tom knows and loves.

            Instead of saying anything, Cochise turns his head so his face presses into Tom’s belly.  He breathes in deeply, enjoying his scent.  It is tangy, unique, like so much of Tom.  His body chemistry also contains a spectacular amount of salt, which Cochise enjoys immensely. 

            Tom lifts his shirt a little and Cochise presses his face against Tom’s bare skin.  He flicks his tongue out to taste him.  So salty, so alien. 

            “You love doing that,” Tom comments, laughing a little.

            “You are salty and I find your taste most enjoyable,” Cochise says. 

            “Good enough to eat, hmm?” Tom says.

            “I would not actually consume you,” Cochise says between licks. 

            “That’s a relief,” Tom says affectionately, fingers trailing along his ridges. 

            Cochise is fairly certain this is a jest, and that Tom did not believe that he would consume him.  However sometimes it is hard to tell with his human. 

            “Your tongue feels good,” Tom comments, and then he makes a noise that Cochise has learned is associated with arousal. 

            Cochise licks with purpose now, seeking to arouse Tom and engage in intercourse with him.  At first, Cochise had worried about initiating intercourse with Tom.  After all, Tom may change his mind about wishing to engage in intercourse, but he may not be fully comfortable rejecting Cochise.  The only way Cochise had initially been able to convince himself he was not behaving immorally with Tom was that Tom had initiated their relationship, even after Cochise offered him plenty of chances to change his mind.

            But after Tom asked Cochise to be more vocal in his enjoyment of their activities together, Cochise slowly started adjusting to the idea that he could be the initiator of sex acts.  Tom is clearly comfortable talking to him about his wants and needs, and he would undoubtedly stop him if he did something unpleasant.

            Tom pulls his shirt all the way off and Cochise brushes over one of Tom’s little nubs with his hand.  It makes Tom gasp and shake, and Cochise can see the effects in Tom’s pants. 

            “Am I hurting you?” Tom asks as he starts stroking his body.

            “No,” Cochise says.  “This is most pleasurable.”

            “Now we just have to get our clothes off,” Tom says.

            Cochise sits up and carefully tugs Tom’s pants down.  “I agree.”

            Tom’s small, frail form should not be so alluring, but Cochise feels a deep desire for him nonetheless.  He always has to remember to restrain himself.  If Cochise let loose his passion fully onto Tom, it is likely he would do him great harm, given his greater strength and Tom’s comparative frailty.  Injuring Tom, even slightly, even while deeply impassioned, would be unforgiveable. 

            “You are most attractive,” Cochise says, voice low as he scoots behind Tom. 

            Mimicking something he read in a human novel, Cochise grasps Tom’s wrist and brings it to his lips.  He presses careful kisses against the delicate skin of the underside of Tom’s arm until he reaches his shoulder.

            Tom sighs and leans against him. 

            Taking that as a sign of approval, Cochise continues kissing Tom, nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck.  His hands explore the now familiar space of Tom’s body.  If he presses a little, he can feel the hardness of Tom’s bones under his skin.  Bizarre. 

            As always, he gets caught in the unique tactile sensation of Tom’s body hair.  From the thinner hair that covers most of his body to the thicker hair of his face and head, it is a delight to stroke.  The trail of hair that leads from his bellybutton to his genital region is particularly enjoyable.

            Cochise follows the trail of hair, enjoying the way Tom shudders against his body as he grasps his penis.  He makes a wonderful noise as he thrusts into Cochise’s hand.

            Tom turns his head so he’s looking over at Cochise.  “You still have all your clothes on.  It’s a crime.”

            “I apologize,” Cochise says.  “Please, will you help me rectify the situation to your satisfaction?”

            Tom quickly removes Cochise’s clothing, and somehow, Cochise ends up beneath Tom.  Cochise enjoys the position, and he enjoys it even more as Tom slides his penis into his pouch.

            Cochise is always surprised by his body’s reaction to Tom’s presence inside of him.  It reacts as if Tom is going to fertilize an egg with him.  He had previously believed that Volm bodies only reacted in such a way to other Volm bodies, but it may be a mistake in the Volm curriculum.  Unfortunately, he does not feel comfortable enough discussing his life with Tom with other Volm to ask.

            Having Tom all the way inside him, as a Volm only should be, used to make him feel somewhat dirty, in an appealing way.  Now, however, it gives the brief illusion that they could truly be together as broodmates.  The closest thing to a true expression of love that Volm have is affection and procreation, brought together.  While Cochise already has emotions that go much deeper than Volm affection, he still possesses a deep yearning to create a hatchling with the person for whom has this deep affection for.  His body is reacting in such a manner, after all, ready to mate with Tom.

            Of course, Cochise is aware that it is only an illusion. 

            Tom fills Cochise with pleasure as he rocks back in forth, exciting the nerve endings located in Cochise’s pouch.  In return, Cochise touches Tom in the places he knows fill him with pleasure.

            When Tom has orgasmed, he lays against Cochise, head pressed against his chest.  Tom always seems so relaxed after orgasming, so Cochise is always careful to wrap his arms around him in order to prolong the bliss.  Tom enjoys the sensation of being held, Cochise knows.

            For Cochise’s part, Tom’s orgasm is not the end of his pleasure.  His body begins absorbing Tom’s genetic material, which is a steady, pulsing pleasure throughout his body that lasts and lasts.


	49. The Last Night/The Last Dance

“Tomorrow,” Cochise’s voice seems to boom through their quarters, “the Volm ship will be at its closest to Earth.  It is when we should depart for Earth.”

            Tom swallows hard and stares at the ceiling as he lays in bed.  “Okay.” His voice is barely audible.

            “I have already placed sufficient funds into a bank account for you to continue your education and altered your records to say that you will enroll in college this year,” Cochise says.  “I will provide you with all the necessary information.”

            “Okay.” 

            “Tom, please respond,” Cochise says, sitting beside him.

            “I don’t want to go,” Tom says.  “I want to stay here with you.”

            Cochise strokes his face.  “I wish there was a way.”

            “I know,” Tom says.  “I guess part of me always figured that everything would end up working out.  That either you’d go back to your old job or you’d find our planet.”  Like a fairytale.  They could be the weirdest fairytale ever. 

            Cochise kisses his cheek and gets up.  There’s a rustling noise, but Tom can’t bring himself to see what Cochise is doing.  He feels paralyzed, like even breathing is hard. 

            A few minutes later, Cochise’s hand rests on his shoulder and Tom looks over to see him standing there in his dress. 

            “You said when I informed you of this situation that you did not wish to spend the remainder of our time together upset and angry.  I believe that we should not spend our last day together overwhelmed with sadness, either, even if that is the predominant emotion we are feeling,” Cochise says.  “I wish to celebrate you, Tom.  Please, come dance with me.”

            “You’re right,” Tom says.  He gets up and takes a minute to absorb the sight of Cochise in his blue ball gown.  “You’re so handsome, Cochise.”

            Tom is rewarded with a beautiful blue blush spreading across Cochise’s face.  He strokes along Cochise’s most prominent facial ridge. 

            “And I love your blush,” Tom says.

            Cochise sets his hands on Tom’s hips and draws him close.  “I am glad you find me appealing.”

            Tom slides his hands up Cochise’s arms to splay across his back.  He rests his head on Cochise’s chest as they start to rock back and forth. 

            Cochise’s hands slide under his shirt, so they can have skin to skin contact.  His heart beats so loudly that Tom can hear it.

            Tom tries not cry- Cochise said they shouldn’t be sad, after all- but he can’t help it, knowing that this is the last time that he’ll dance with Cochise like this.  The last time he’ll hold and be held by Cochise just like this. 

            A deep keening noise comes from the depths of Cochise’s chest.  It sounds pained, broken.  Tom lifts his tear streaked face to look up at Cochise in concern. 

            “I apologize, Tom,” Cochise says.  “It is a Volm expression of deep sorrow.  I will try to contain myself.”

            “Don’t apologize,” Tom says, settling his head back against Cochise’s chest.  “And don’t worry about restraining yourself.  I feel it, too.  I know it’s a Volm expression, but I feel it too.”

            Tom closes his eyes as he listens to Cochise’s keening.  It’s piercing and haunting, but it also comforts him somehow.  Maybe it’s because Cochise’s keening says something to him that Tom doesn’t think either of them could put into words.  Now he doesn’t have to try to do so. 

            When Cochise goes quiet, ages later, he presses his face to the top of Tom’s head and Tom can feel dampness. 

            “We’ll be okay,” Tom tells him softly, feeling the assuredness solidly for the first time.  “There are some things that distance can’t break.  We’re one of those things.”

            “I draw strength from your conviction,” Cochise murmurs.

            “And I’m stronger because of you,” Tom says. 

            “I am going to attempt to speak primarily figuratively.  Please, do not take offense if it comes out incorrectly,” Cochise says.

            “I won’t,” Tom says.  He holds a little tighter to Cochise, just because.

            “You have grown larger since you have been here, a growth which suits you,” Cochise says.

            Tom makes a humming noise as he tries and fails to decode what Cochise means.  “You’re going to have to explain.”

            “During your first days here, you pushed yourself smaller.  You hastened to apologize at any perceived infraction, and while you touched me casually, you never truly relaxed, even when unconscious,” Cochise explains.  “You repeatedly attempted to sleep on the floor instead of the bed, and even when pressing for answers, you remained cautious.  As a result of your prior experiences, you were small- understandable, but unfortunate.”

            “And now?” Tom asks.

            “This space is as much yours as mine.  You seem comfortable challenging me and my beliefs, even when part of me would, perhaps, wish you would not force me to consider drastically new ideas.  I have noticed that you are relaxed and comfortable.  You apologize when you worry you have hurt me, but never because you fear a reprisal,” Cochise says.  “You are larger and you fill this space.  I have enjoyed watching this change in your demeanor.”

            “I get what you mean now.  It’s because you’ve helped to make this place a home.  A good place to be, not just compared to where I’ve been, but compared to anywhere I could imagine,” Tom says.  He smiles up at Cochise lovingly.  There’s no way that Tom could have done it without him.

            “I am glad that I have been a positive influence,” Cochise says.  “I hope you continue to grow larger on Earth.”

            “I think I will,” Tom says confidently. 

            “Good,” Cochise says happily.

            They dance in silence for a while, until Tom tries to get Cochise to twirl him and they end up tangled in his dress (and then end up on the ground).

            “I’m sorry,” Tom says, laughing a little.  “I thought it’d be fun.”

            “I found it enjoyable, as long as I did not injure you,” Cochise says.

            “Don’t worry, you didn’t,” Tom says, leaning over to kiss him while he can.

            Cochise kisses him back, hands tangled in his hair, until Tom is left breathless and panting when they break apart. 

            “I love you, I love you, I love you, my most important Cochise,” Tom murmurs. 

            “I love you as well,” Cochise says.  “Although, I would argue that it is you that is most important.”

            Tom flushes and slides into Cochise’s lap, despite the dress.  It poofs around him, rustling against his arms.  He wants to be held by Cochise, and he doesn’t even have to ask; Cochise’s arms surround him automatically. 

            They rock back and forth on the floor for a while until Cochise has to change to get them dinner.

            “I cannot be seen by another Volm wearing such impractical clothing,” he says, kissing Tom tenderly before leaving.

            They spend the rest of the night pretending it’s a regular night.  Tom tells Cochise new things about Volm history and asks what Cochise thinks.  Cochise gets horribly uncomfortable when he has to say something condemning something the Volm have done. 

            Tom spends an hour describing some of the basic arguments that the Founding Fathers had and then goes on to connect them to some of the pre-Espheni inter-Volm conflicts.

            There’s no heaviness weighing the night down.  Tom enjoys being with the person he loves, talking about the things he loves. 

            That night, Tom curls around Cochise, gripping him tightly like he can hold on forever.  Cochise is also holding him tighter than usual, but Tom doesn’t care.  It’s not like he was going to be able to sleep, even with Cochise murmuring in Volm in his ear.


	50. The Long Goodbye

            “You must stare straight ahead at all times, like always,” Cochise says, grasping his shoulders and looking at him seriously.  “If anything happens, stay behind me.”

            “Anything happens?” Tom says.  “Like what?” 

            “If another Volm confronts us,” Cochise says.  “That is the primary concern.  If they stop and question me, try not to react.  If I have to forcibly remove them from our path, stay back and behind me at all times.  I will ensure your safety.”

            Tom swallows hard.  “Don’t take any unnecessary risks, okay?” 

            “I would not put you at risk, Tom,” Cochise says. 

            Tom cups his face with his hands.  “Don’t take any unnecessary risks, even after I’m back on Earth.”

            “I will keep my promise to you,” Cochise says. 

            Tom smiles encouragingly, straightens his back, and then makes his face go blank.  He takes one last look around the place he calls home, the home he’s now leaving forever.  The walls, once blank, are now covered in drawings, both human and Volm, as well as numerous tic-tac-toe games.  It’s the last time he’ll see any of it, so he tries to remember Cochise’s drawings the most.

“Okay.  Lets go,” Tom finally says, figuring they should go before he starts crying.  He’s got to be strong if they’re going to make it, for both him and Cochise. 

Cochise inclines his head and then opens the door.  Tom stares at Cochise’s shoulder hard enough to burn a hole through it.  Luckily, they don’t pass any Volm, at least until they reach parts that don’t look familiar at all.  Still, there aren’t not too many Volm.

When the first Volm talks to Cochise, Tom doesn’t glance at them, just keeps staring at Cochise’s shoulder; Tom has always been good at obeying.  He does listen in.  Of course, he doesn’t understand what they’re saying, but Tom can listen to the way Cochise is talking to glean how he’s feeling.  So far, he seems okay. 

Then, they reach what Tom can only assume is a hangar.   He can see what look like little ships, at least.  At the threshold is a Volm, and as Cochise begins to talk to them, Tom can hear his voice start to get more stressed.

Still, Tom is shocked when Cochise punches the Volm and throws them into a wall.  Cochise then stomps on the Volm’s torso and Tom hears some kind of crunch.  It’s so sudden and violent that Tom barely has time to react before Cochise is yelling at him to run.

            When Tom doesn’t move, Cochise scoops him up easily and runs into the nearest ship.  He sets Tom in a seat, fastening him in somehow before taking the controls. 

            His heart is pounding in his ears as he watches space open up in front of them.  It’s huge and vast and Tom thinks he could get lost in it. 

            Cochise presses some buttons on a console before coming and crouching in front of Tom.  He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t touch him, just looks at him sadly.

“We’re safe, right?” Tom eventually manages to say.  Cochise is spending an awful lot of time staring at him and not piloting the ship after all.

“We are on course to Earth and the main ship shows no signs of pursuit,” Cochise says.  “I apologize for what you had to witness.  I understand if you do not wish to talk to me for the duration of the trip.”

“It’s okay,” Tom says.  He reaches out to find Cochise’s hands, but the restraints hold him back.  “How do I get out of these?”

“I wished to ensure your safety in case of pursuit, but I do not believe that will be necessary,” Cochise says, pressing a button.

The restraints pop open and Tom lunges out of his seat into Cochise’s arms.  “What does this mean for you?” he murmurs.  “They’re going to know that you took the ship, no question.”

“Do not concern yourself with that,” Cochise says, wrapping his arms around Tom.  “I will be okay.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Tom asks, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You do not,” Cochise says.

Tom holds Cochise as tight as he can, disbelieving that this is actually happening.  He had been certain that something would stop it. 

“I know that you’re thinking something dumb,” Tom says.  “That, like, because I saw you beat up that guy, I don’t love you or don’t think you’re gentle or something dumb like that.   Am I right?”

Cochise pulls back far enough that Tom can look him in the eye, even if they’re still pressed against each other along most of their bodies.  “You are correct.”

“Then I want to make sure that you know that nothing has changed.  I still love my gentle, important Cochise.  I knew you knew how to fight, and I know you wouldn’t have done that if you had another choice,” Tom says, and then adds for emphasis, “Nothing has changed.”  Which is a funny thing to emphasize when everything is about to change. 

“You are certain?” Cochise asks.

“Yes.  I love you, and I’d still feel totally safe living with you, if I had the chance,” Tom says. 

Cochise tucks a strand of hair behind Tom’s ear.  “That is a relief.  I would feel… troubled if you no longer trusted me in such a manner.”

“I was just startled, scared for what it meant for you,” Tom says.  “How long until we reach Earth?”

“We will be there in a matter of hours,” Cochise says.  “You will be able to see some of the planets in your solar system before we reach Earth.”

            “Cool,” Tom says.

            “I believe this spot will be the best place to view the planets,” Cochise says, bringing him towards the viewports up front. 

            “Now all we need is some chairs and some popcorn,” Tom muses. 

            “We do not have either, but I can provide seating,” Cochise says, scooping him up before Tom can say anything.

            Tom smiles and kisses his cheek, wrapping his arms around Cochise and pulling himself as close to him as possible.  “This is good.”

            “You are light and easy to hold,” Cochise says.

            “Don’t forget what you promised me,” Tom says a little while later.

            “I will ensure my own safety as if your wellbeing depended on it,” Cochise says, “and you will move on to live a fulfilling human life.”

            “Yeah,” Tom says, slightly unenthused for that last part. 

            “You will find someone to love, someone who loves you deeply in return,” Cochise says.  “I am confident of this.  You are loving and generous.”

            “I won’t feel for them the same way I feel for you,” Tom says.  “No matter what happens, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.”

            “I am deeply honored,” Cochise says.

            Tom kisses Cochise gently. 

            Cochise pulls away when they pass Uranus to point it out, and then Tom has to spend the next couple minutes explaining all the Uranus jokes that people back on Earth make. 

            “It is a good thing I witnessed you pooping,” Cochise comments when Tom is done.  “It helped me to understand Uranus better.”

            Tom pauses, processes, and then bursts out laughing, while Cochise looks incredibly pleased with himself. 

            “That was good,” Tom says, still laughing.  “That was amazing.”

            “I enjoy your language’s wordplay,” Cochise says. 

            Passing Jupiter is a more stated affair, even though it is further in the distance.  It’s swirly and beautiful and Tom is in awe. 

            “I can’t believe that I get to see this,” Tom says softly. 

            “It is a beautiful sight,” Cochise says. 

            There’s so much more that Tom wants to say to Cochise, but it all seems so inadequate, so he remains silent as they pass by Mars.  He stays curled up in Cochise’s arms, resting his head on his shoulder. 

            When they see Earth and the Moon, Tom’s chest constricts.  It’s beautiful to see, of course, but it means that his time left with Cochise can probably be counted in minutes now.

            “I must set you down,” Cochise says.  “I have to navigate now.”

            Tom nods and lets Cochise set him down.  “So, back to Boston?”

            “Is that the city that I abducted you from initially?” Cochise asks.

            “Yeah,” Tom says, staring at the Earth, which is getting increasingly larger in the screen.

            “You can choose a different city, if you wish,” Cochise says.  “I can alter the records of a different university if you wish and the monetary information I gave you should work no matter where you are.  I want to give you everything I can.”

            Tom sighs deeply and weighs his choices.  His dad is in Boston, but there are also so many places in Boston that saved him.  “No.  I want to go back to Boston.  I love Boston.” 

            “Very well,” Cochise says.

            Tom steps behind Cochise and wraps his arms around him.  He hates not being in contact with Cochise. 

            “We are twenty minutes from landing,” Cochise says.

            Tom knows that he should be watching their landing, watching this spectacular stuff that very few humans have ever seen, but he’s too busy watching Cochise.  He’s doing his best to make sure he burns everything about Cochise into his brain. 

            Some time later, Cochise steps away from the console.  “We have arrived, Tom.”

            Tom keeps an arm wrapped around Cochise as they head towards the hatch.  The hatch opens and Tom breathes fresh air for the first time since his abduction. 

            “Welcome home, Tom,” Cochise says softly as they step onto Earth. 

            Tom turns and hugs him properly.  “I’m leaving home,” he murmurs. 

            “You will be incredible,” Cochise says, hugging him tight.  “I only wish I could see the results.” 

            Tom blinks back the tears as he pulls away.  “You have to take care of yourself because you are so important.  You can’t ever forget either of those things.”

            “I will not forget,” Cochise promises.  “I wish that I could explore this world with you, but I must return to the main ship, and I must not be seen by other humans.”

            “I understand,” Tom says.  “I love you, Cochise.”

            “I love you, too.  You are the greatest thing that has happened to me,” Cochise says, leaning forward to kiss him.

            There’s one last tight hug, Cochise walks back into his ship, and then Cochise is gone.  Tom watches the ship take off, standing there until he can’t see it anymore. 

            “Goodbye.”


	51. Coda

            Tom stumbles out of the alleyway where Cochise left him, feeling confused and hollow.  He doesn’t have any idea where to go or what to do.  He doesn’t even know what day it is.  Or night, it’s night right now.  Oh god, oh god, oh god, what does he do now?

            “Excuse me?”

            Tom realizes that he’s just run into someone.  Wow, he’s so great at being back on Earth.  “Sorry, sorry.”

            “Hey,” the stranger says, “are you okay?”

            “It’s been a rough day,” Tom says honestly.  “And I’m not sure where to go next.  I, uh, broke up with my boyfriend, and I don’t have anywhere to go.”

            “Are you a student?” she asks. 

            Tom nods.

“I have a friend looking for a roommate; you can crash on my couch for the night,” she says. 

“You’re going to let a stranger crash on your couch?” Tom asks.  Especially considering the fact he’s pretty sure that he has the beard and hair of a weird criminal.

“My door locks and I’m a black belt,” she says.  “If you try anything, I’ll kick your nuts off.  Toss you back out into the street.” 

“Deal,” Tom says, smiling a little bit. 

“Plus, I’m good at reading people.  You seem alright,” she says.  “You might want to look into a little hair maintenance, though.  You could totally pull off a beard, but unless you’re going to head into the woods, you should trim it a little.”

“Thanks.  I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom says.  “I’m Tom.”

“Rebecca,” she says, reaching her hand out and Tom has to remind himself about the whole shaking hands thing.

“It’s good to meet you,” Tom says.

“Yeah, it is,” she says, smiling at him.  “Come on.  You’ve got to be cold in that really… unique outfit.”

Tom looks down at himself.  Oh, yeah, he’s still wearing the pajama-esque Volm clothes Cochise had given him. 

Rebecca leads him forward.  Then she stops and turns back to look at him.  “You can walk next to me, you know.  I won’t kick your nuts off for that.”

Tom tries to laugh it off, brittle, as he comes to walk next to Rebecca. 

* * *

 

A month passes, and Cochise is miserable.  The pain of the electric prod and isolation chamber has long faded, and he is a valiant fighter against the Espheni on this faraway planet.  He is alone once again, and he tries to insist it is for the best.  That it is how he is supposed to be.

Still, he attempts to find the star that he knows Tom is currently orbiting when the sky is clear enough.  It gives him a comfort because he knows what it is to not be alone.  He still loves, but over time, as he kills and almost dies and watches so many people die, it is more difficult to remember being loved.  It becomes more difficult to remember anything apart from this ruined planet.  It becomes more difficult to remember why he tries to find ways that save the lives of the natives of this planet.

And then.

An unexpected feeling starts to grow in Cochise’s pouch.  At first, Cochise believes it to be phantom sensation, and he attempts to ignore it.  Perhaps he is the first Volm to, as Tom would put it, go off his rocker.  Perhaps Tom has driven him insane.

Deciding that he can take the uncertainty no more, he reaches a tentative hand into his own pouch.  He touches something slimy, still forming.

Gasping, he pulls his hand away.  An egg.  There’s an egg forming in his pouch. 

The only option for second parent is Tom.  Cochise has not engaged in intercourse with anyone else.  Somehow, Tom has fertilized his egg.

Cochise places his hands over his own torso.  Now, he must protect himself for a second purpose.  Creating and then hatching an egg is a lengthy process, and Cochise will not be able to follow normal procedure.  A half-human hybrid will not be welcome in the nest ships. 

He goes outside and finds an isolated area, away from other Volm.  He looks up, finds Tom’s star. 

“We will have a hatchling, Tom,” he whispers softly.  “I will keep them safe for you.”

It pains him that Tom will never know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the sequel, tentatively titled "The Things Distance Can't Break," coming to AO3 eventually.


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